


Parity Transformations

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-09
Updated: 2008-01-06
Packaged: 2018-10-01 09:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 65,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10185821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts and seven years since the end of the war, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

 

A/N: Compliant with all canon up to _HBP_ so there may be spoilers for any of the six books. As this fic is already planned out in full, it will not be compliant with book 7. Apologies for my bad timing. 

 

Draco Malfoy loved to walk. There was something about putting one foot in front of the other, no plans and no intentions, and seeing where you would end up. 

As a boy he’d dreamed of gazing over hills and valleys, and running as far and fast as his legs would take him just for the hell of it, just because it was fun. Freedom. But that was before he discovered power and self restraint, and before the Dark Arts became more interesting that the limitless sky above. That was before the power to hurt became preferable to jumping in puddles. 

It seemed fitting that Draco Malfoy would one day come full circle.

The ground was firm and dry today, a sunny contrast to the previous week when the grass beneath his feet had been drowned by a continuous four-day downpour. That week, Draco had truly needed his two hundred pound walking boots. This week, though, the sun had been shining just as it should in June, and the grassland was to be easily negotiated. 

Draco left the light shadows of the oak trees and took slow steps uphill towards the next patch of forest. Farley Mount was extensive, miles of chalk down grassland and woodland. There were an almost unlimited number of routes to take and parts of the county park to see, but even though Draco had been walking here every Sunday for the past three years, he had yet to see it all. 

Draco Malfoy was a creature of habit. He liked his ordered life, his porridge for breakfast everyday, and his walk through Farley Mount County Park every Sunday. He got up at six o’clock sharp every day courtesy of his very accurate body clock, liked to read _The Daily Prophet_ and _The Times_ , in that order, with a mug of strong Twinings Breakfast Tea, everyday. He got his hair trimmed every six weeks, his nails done every two weeks and settled his bills the moment they came by Muggle post.

There was only one thing in Draco’s life that disrupted this order: a person: a very small person who invited chaos, dirt, non-stop chatter, and a life of happiness that Draco treasured far beyond any expanse of power or abundance of riches: a son. 

‘Not too far!’ Draco called into the distance at the disappearing speck that was his child. Immediately, the faraway speck stopped, then became larger and larger as it closed in, forming the vision of a small boy of four, with a slightly pointy face, floppy flaxen hair and a Cheshire Cat grin.

‘Come on! Too slow!’ the boy bellowed back, stopping and jumping up and down. 

‘Have pity on your old father,’ Draco said with mock weakness. 

‘I’ll help you, Daddy!’ The little boy rushed to his father and took his hand, to all intents and purposes dragging him up the steep embankment. 

‘You’re supposed to tell me I’m not old, not rush to my aid,’ Draco said with an exasperated chuckle. He let himself be lead up to the top of the bank where the grassland suddenly dipped again. His son let go of his hand, got down on his side, and rolled all the way down the little hill. 

Draco chose a more sensible route, detouring to the left and following a thin, windy, whitish-coloured path that took much more time to get down than the roly-poly method. 

Kasen Miles Narciso Malfoy stood bouncing while he waited, clearly impatient and desperate to be on his little way.

‘Go on, then,’ Draco said, waving him away. But stay where I can see you, or I’ll _Accio_ you right back.”

There was mischief written all over Kasen’s face. Draco looked around him – no Muggles in site – and grinned back at his son. 

Kasen took off with surprising speed for one with such small legs. He laughed joyfully as he ran, speeding in the direction of the woodland and the boggy track and bridleway beyond, the last place Draco wanted him to go. Even in the summer months, that track – an access road for forestry vehicles, although Draco had never once seen so much as a Land Rover go down it – never fully dried up, and the mud could easily reach the top of and then fill Kasen’s Wellington boots. 

Draco gave him a three second start, which was as much as he dared, and then he took off after his son, his long strides quickly making up the distance. He stopped dead, pulled out his wand, and shouted, _‘ACCIO KASEN MILES NARCISO MALFOY!’_

Kasen flew backwards through the air, laughing, squealing and kicking, and landed comfortably and securely in his father’s arms. He wiggled until Draco put him down, then he went charging off again, obviously hoping for a repeat performance. He stopped suddenly when a small, dark-haired boy, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear, emerged from the trees.

Kasen stared at him, wariness creeping over his face, and Draco cursed himself for installing such suspicion in his own son. 

‘Who are you?’ Kasen asked, his chin rising and his back straightening. 

His tone was polite enough, but Draco recognised it as Kasen’s formal voice, a voice just like his own, reserved for strangers, people that he didn’t know, people that might be bad. 

The dark-haired boy seemed to be considering Kasen, and Draco moved closer to ensure his son behaved and inflicted no rudeness upon the small stranger.

‘I’m James. Do you want to play?’

It saddened Draco that instead of turning excitedly to ask permission, his son instead narrowed his eyes and asked guardedly, ‘What sort of game?’

As it turned out, the answer to that question was not one that needed words. The little boy pulled back his arm and lobbed a great fist-full of mud, splattering a shocked Kasen.

‘Now you have to get me!’

The little boy turned tail and ran, leaving a stunned Kasen blinking up at his equally stunned father.

‘Well,’ Draco said, a little lost for words, ‘I’m not sure that was altogether appropriate behaviour.’

Kasen’s jaw snapped shut and his bewildered expression turned to one of determined revenge. He turned and charged into the woods. 

‘Oh, erm, Kasen, I don’t think … Oh bugger.’ Draco pocketed his wand and ran after his son, following a four-year-old’s version of a war cry. 

He weaved in and out of the trees, stumbling over fallen branches and annoyingly random humps of raised ground. Draco tried to increase his speed, but it wasn’t easy considering his height and the way the tree branches hung just where he didn’t want them to be. 

Kasen’s war-cry carried through the woods. To be honest, it was more like listening to a bad opera than a charging warrior. Draco followed the sound, wondering how his son had gotten so far away from him so quickly. 

A bubble of panic formed in Draco’s gut as he closed in on where he new the old track to be. He sped up, ignoring the thin wisp-like branches that tried to tangle in his long hair. He had a terrible feeling.

‘Kasen, come back here! Don’t you _dare_ cross that track!’

Kasen’s call to arms ceased and Draco stopped, desperately looking around him to try to get his bearings back. Each direction looked exactly the same and Draco wasn’t entirely sure that he hadn’t turned himself all the way around. 

There was a rumble in the distance and, for a moment, Draco mistook it for the sound of thunder, a familiar noise from just a week ago when Hampshire was blanketed in a cascade of rain that flooded roads, schools, homes and made even a small shopping trip into Winchester Town Centre into an absolute nightmare. 

The noise grew louder and horror dawned on Draco as he recognised the sound of a tractor close by. The squeals of his son rose into the air again and Draco’s head snapped in its direction, and he took off at a dead run. 

Of all the moments for a bloody tractor to actually use that damnable, poor excuse for a road, it had to be now. Draco was very aware that the boggy track was well in use, the deep tire tracks a dead giveaway, but never had he seen a vehicle pass down it.

The noise of the tractor was loud now, uncomfortable to Draco’s ears, and he struggled to hear any sound beyond it. Where was Kasen? Had he gone the other way? Was he in front? Was he on the road? 

Draco’s chest constricted painfully. This was all his fault. He hadn’t been strict enough with Kasen. This would never have happened if he’d been more like his father. Lucius Malfoy would never have permitted his son to run amuck in such a fashion. 

Totally panic-stricken and the track now in sight, Draco burst from the undergrowth. And nearly collided with the tractor. He staggered back and clutched at his frantically beating heart. 

‘Daddy!’

Draco looked anxiously around him as the tractor passed, a wave of sheer relief settling over him at the sight of his son, safe and sound and holding hands with ... Harry Potter.

The tractor passed and Potter made his way over, releasing the children to make their own way.

‘Christ, are you alright?’

Draco wasn’t sure that he was, but he nodded a brief affirmative anyway. 

‘Are you sure?’ Potter persisted. ‘You’re white as a ... Malfoy?’

Draco laughed. It was sudden and loud and tinged with hysteria. Harry Potter looked a little bit taken aback. 

‘White as a Malfoy?’ Draco repeated. ‘That’s a new one.’

Kasen launched himself at Draco, wrapping his small arms around his father’s legs and nearly knocking him over. 

‘Sorry, that was supposed to be two sentences. Your son?’ Potter asked, looking down at where Draco’s hand was stroking Kasen’s now mud-soaked hair.

‘Very perceptive.’

Potter shrugged. ‘I still read The Prophet. It was pretty big news.’

‘Indeed,’ Draco said, his one-word answer laced with an unhealthy amount of bitterness. ‘As was yours. This is him, I assume? This is the newest Potter hooligan?’

‘Hey …’

Draco continued, old grievances coming to the surface along with stone-cold anger that he could have lost his son today, the only person who meant anything and everything to him, the person who had saved him. ‘Your foolhardy son nearly cost mine his life.’

Potter looked incredulously at him. ‘How do you work that out?’

‘My son could have been run over!’

‘Don’t be daft, Malfoy. The only one of us not looking where they were going was you.’

‘How dare you! Perhaps you should consider training your offspring a little better before you pass judgement on other people. Actually, forget it. I should have known you’d someday spawn a thoughtless, selfish, jumped up little twit like yourself. I should have prepared myself for his inevitable arrival.’

Both children were in shock by the time Draco had finished his tirade. Kasen’s eyes were wide and his mouth was open again. James’ bottom lip was trembling.

‘You know what,’ Potter sneered, stepping into Draco’s personal space. ‘I put up with you for _years_. Six long years, Malfoy. I let you stay at Grimmauld Place, even after what you’d done. I offered you sanctuary when no one else would even _look_ at you. You’d have gone to Azkaban if it wasn’t for me! I’m sure Lucius would have loved to see you.’

‘ _Potter._ Shut. Up.’ Rage filled him, total and utter fury. He’d never hated anyone more in his entire life. 

‘Why? Why should I? It’s alright for you to say crappy things, but for some reason I can’t? Why is that Malfoy? Some kind of superiority thing? Because I think the mighty fell a long time ago.’

“Yes,” Draco said softly but threateningly. ‘That we did.’ He glared at Potter, his lips pressed together to form a thin line of utter hatred. ‘Thank you for the history lesson.’

‘Daddy? Daddy? Father!’ Kasen tugged insistently on his father’s sleeve. ‘What’s Azkabran? Is Grandfather Lucius really there?’

Draco’s hand gently touched his son’s head again, but his eyes were firmly locked onto Potter’s. He got no satisfaction at the look of absolute horror that crossed Potter’s face.

‘Shit, Malfoy, I’m –’

‘Come, Kasen. I think it’s time we left.’

He walked away with his son, vibrating with anger and with no outlet for it. Kasen would ask questions; he was that type of boy. But although Draco had had four years to come up with answers, he had absolutely no clue what he would say. 

How do you tell your child his daddy was the bad guy?

** 

_‘Well done, Draco. Well done. I didn’t honestly think you had it in you.’_

_A cold, wretched hand touched his chin and caressed his cheek. Draco closed his eyes and tried to hear only the sound of celebrating around him instead of the thundering of his own heart and his mother’s tearful breathing._

_‘Dumbledore finally dead. And it was all down to you. Such loyalty.’_

_Draco shook his head and opened his eyes. He knew; somehow the Dark Lord knew. ‘I didn’t … I couldn’t … Severus did it for me.’_

_The hand held his chin high and squeezed._

_‘My Lord,” Severus interrupted, ‘it was a matter of time. The Order were present and we had to make a quick escape. Draco hesitated. No doubt the old fool had been trying to talk his way out of his … predicament. I finished Draco’s task only to save time. I have no doubts he would have finished Dumbledore himself under better circumstances.’_

_Draco held his breath and the Dark Lord’s penetrating gaze. He felt a coldness press and push inside his head and Draco started to shake at the effort of concealment._

_The Dark Lord smiled._

 

**

Otterbourne was a quiet village. Six miles South of Winchester, it was just far enough away to leave behind the hustle and bustle of a city. Not that Winchester was much of a city, not in the modern sense of the word. There was something about it that reminded Draco of Diagon Alley, with its old fashioned buildings and uneven streets. 

Otterbourne itself was relatively isolated and it gave Draco a much needed sense of peace and contentment. Open countryside dominated the small village, and scattered in between were four pubs, a school, a parish church, a post office and a village shop. It was a simple place, unremarkable, just how Draco liked it.

He and Kasen lived in what was once a one-level farmhouse. The farm had long since closed down and its occupants moved on. The house had switched owners five times in ten years by the time Draco came to view it. It had been fixed up, sold on, updated, sold on again, until the simple property in the centre of the village had become highly sought after and terribly expensive.

Three years ago, Draco bought it without a second thought. It was the only property he’d seen. It was his first time around proper Muggles, he was tired, impatient, he had a screaming one-year-old in his arms, and he just wanted to get on with it all before he changed his mind. The decision to leave his world hadn’t been an easy one, even if it had been the only one.

Draco and Kasen toed off their walking boots and Draco lined them up next to the front door. He hung up their coats while Kasen stood and watched him.

‘What?’ he asked, feeling his son’s stares from behind him.

‘Who was that man?’

Draco smoothed out non-existent creases from his coat, delaying his answer. He really didn’t want to answer that question, or any question, in fact. 

One query lead to another and another and then another. But he’d promised himself when he demanded to take Kasen that he would never lie to him, never deceive him, never pretend to be someone he wasn’t. 

‘That was Harry Potter.’ Draco waited and watched expressions of thought flit over Kasen’s little face, waiting for the moment the name would click into place. And sure enough, it did. 

Kasen’s eyes widened to a comical size and his mouth dropped open. ‘Harry Potter won the war!’

Draco took his son’s hand and together they walked through the front room, dining room and into the kitchen where he pulled a small stool over to the sink. ‘Yes, he did. Wash your hands.’ 

Draco had told Kasen only the basics so far, and he didn’t feel guilty about that at all. Kasen was far too young for all the gruesome details of such an ugly event. All he needed to know was that a bad man had forced a division within the wizarding world, one side against the other. Harry Potter had been the Leader of the Light and he had saved entire world. 

‘Daddy, you shouted at Harry Potter!”

‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ Draco muttered. ‘Do you want a sandwich?’

‘Spam!’ Kasen yelled. He leapt off the stool, pulled himself onto a chair and waited for his sandwich with his clean palms pressed flat against the table top and his feet swinging in mid-air. 

‘Potter and I went to school together. We were in the same year – different Houses, though.’

‘Hogwarts,” Kasen breathed. 

Any mention of Hogwarts gave a Kasen a dreamy, far-away look in his eyes. He relished any stories Draco told him of the school, with its ghosts and moving portraits and killer hippogriffs. 

‘That’s right.’

‘Were you and Mr Potter friends?’

‘Never,’ said Draco. ‘We were constantly at each other’s throats, loathed the sight of each other. We had quite the reputation, actually. Why the teachers didn’t think to keep us apart more often, I’ll never know.

‘Potter was in Gryffindor. As I’ve told you before, Slytherin and Gryffindor despised each other on principle.’

‘That’s stupid,’ Kasen said.

‘That’s as maybe, but Potter was sort of the leader of his House and I the leader of mine. We fought continuously, both of us as bad as the other at times.’ 

Kasen let the matter drop when he received his crustless sandwich. Draco made himself a mug of tea and poured Kasen a glass of orange and pineapple squash. When he sat down at the table and took a sip of his tea, Kasen was ready with more questions. 

‘What’s Azkabran?’

‘Azkaban,’ Draco corrected. ‘It’s the wizarding prison.’

‘Oh.’ Kasen looked down at his one remaining square of sandwich, his brows furrowing in thought. ‘Is Grandfather really there?’ he asked quietly.

‘Was. He died, remember?’

Kasen nodded. ‘Was he a bad man?’

‘… He was a greedy man. He hungered for power, wealth, influence. The Malfoy’s were a name to be reckoned with and had been for a very long time. Lucius did his very best to keep up a reputation that had been constructed centuries before. But along the way, he fell foul to the Dark Lord and his ways.’

‘Voldewort!’ Kasen gasped after a moment of thought, and Draco nearly choked on his tea.

‘Voldemort,” Draco said, proud of himself for almost not wincing. ‘But we don’t say his name in this house, Kasen. We say “You-Know-Who”.’

Kasen apologised to his father and asked what happened next.

‘He did a bad thing. He hurt people. All at the whim of Him. And he got caught in the act and imprisoned. I was fifteen. He was sent to Azkaban and there he died four years later. I was twenty-one then. That was six years ago.’

Draco sipped at his tea and cast a furtive glance at his son. Kasen was staring at him. He knew his story must have sounded to cold to such young ears, but Draco only wanted to be clear. He didn’t want to tell this story to anyone, much less his own son, and he only wanted to tell it once.

‘Do you hate Grandfather?’

Draco shook his head and put down his mug. ‘I loved him. Very much. And I know that he loved me and my mother very much, too. He was simply allowed his own way for far too long. He never learned right from wrong, and his wrong-doing escalated until it ultimately destroyed him and our family.’

Kasen met his gaze with such a sudden stare that Draco was momentarily hoisted back twenty-three years and he saw the mirror image of himself glaring accusingly at his own father.

‘Were you bad, too?’

‘Yes,’ Draco said immediately. ‘I behaved in a most appalling way for most of my life. I was a spoiled, self-important brat and I did terrible things.’

‘Did you go to prison?’

‘No. I was ... lucky. I probably should have.’

The accusing expression turned worried. ‘Why?’

‘Before the war started, but after your grandfather was sent to Azkaban, I was given a terrible mission by the Dark Lord. I was to complete this mission or suffer the consequences. It was a punishment meant for my father. The Dark Lord did not expect me to succeed. I was meant to die.’

‘No!’ Kasen sprung up from his chair, knocking the table and slopping the glass of squash over the surface. 

‘It’s okay, Kasen. It’s okay,’ Draco said. He opened his arms and accepted Kasen into them, lifting him onto his lap and soothing his sudden tears. ‘Everything is fine now, see? We’ve had a happy ending, haven’t we?’

‘I don’t want you to die. You won’t, will you?’

‘Of course not.’

‘And they won’t take you to Azkaban, will they?’

‘No.’ 

Not that “they” hadn’t tried, but that wasn’t something Draco wanted to go into right now. 

‘Would you like to watch a film with me, Kasen?’ Draco asked. He didn’t want to continue with the story and he was reasonably sure Kasen didn’t want to either. ‘I was thinking Monsters Inc. We haven’t watched that for ages, have we? Why don’t you go and put the DVD in for me. You know I always get it wrong.’

Sniffing, Kasen nodded and jumped down. He stopped before he got to the door way and turned back, his expression resolute. “I’ll always love you, Daddy, even if you do bad things.’

Draco smiled sadly and hoped it would never ever come to that again. ‘And I you.’

 

TBC ...


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Harry and Draco meet again  


* * *

It was starting to get hot, Draco deduced. The midday sun was blazing and heat radiated from the pavement under Draco’s feet. It was a short journey, maybe ten minutes if you walked briskly, to the local shop, and Draco always enjoyed it no matter what the weather. 

Otterbourne wasn’t a large village. The population was tiny, less than two thousand, and the properties were nicely spread out, scattered between green fields and thick, inviting woodland. Mostly, it was a quite place. Aside from the odd car passing with its stereo pumping and the intermittent sounds of children playing or the neighbours arguing, there was just the rustling of leaves, chattering of birds and sometimes the wailing of a cat as it guarded its territory. 

Draco knew how that felt. His home was his little castle, his place of retreat and safety. It belonged to him and Kasen and no one else. The very thought of someone else trying to gain access to his safe haven made Draco coil and hiss inside. 

Draco picked up his pace as Kasen rounded the corner in front, disappearing behind an overgrown hedge. 

‘Can I have some Flying Saucers?’ Kasen asked, looking over his shoulder as he walked.

‘Yes. Watch where you’re going.’

Kasen turned back just in time to narrowly avoid a lamppost, the same lamppost he almost walked into every single time he passed it. 

‘And can we have some chocolate éclairs?’

That wasn’t a fair question. They were Draco’s favourites and he could not, under any circumstances, resist them. Kasen was well aware of this. 

‘Only if you promise to behave.’

‘I promise.’ Kasen grinned. It was the expression of someone who had just executed a fiendish master plan. He always behaved and his father knew it, yet Draco still insisted on issuing the same condition every time the subject of chocolate éclairs came up. 

Walking together now, they turned another corner and crossed the street at the zebra crossing. They continued down a cracked and bumpy path which had seen better days and made one last turn into a street which seemed darker than the others, muted deep green from the overhanging trees. 

Oaks and birches lined and overhung the road, and Draco was glad for the shade, his bare arms already tingling and looking slightly red from the sizzling sun. How he wished he had the sort of body that would suit a vest, shorts and sandals. As it was, he made do with a t-shirt, light linen trousers and trainers. He knew he looked good, even if he couldn’t carry off the bronzed beach boy look. It was just a shame he was sweating like pig in strife. 

Kasen, on the other hand, had been wearing nothing but shorts, t-shirts, and sandals all week. Slathered in SPF 50, he looked much more comfortable than Draco felt. 

The village shop was situated at the end of the road, nestled between unruly but beautiful shocks of buddleia and honeysuckle. 

Kasen pulled on an arching sprig of buddleia, letting it go and pinging it back to bob serenely with the rest of the shrub as he and Draco passed.

‘Good afternoon,’ said a disembodied voice as Draco held open the door for his son. A head of thinning, grey hair popped up from behind a stack of tins. ‘Ah, Draco. And Kasen! Good to see you, young fellow! How the devil are you?’

‘I’m very well. Have you got any Flying Saucers?’

The shopkeeper rolled his eyes. ‘The young. Only one thing on their minds. Sweets. I do believe we have a few bags left. Go on, you’d better grab one of them before the mad rush starts and they all go.’

Kasen gasped and dashed off up the aisle.

‘What rush would that be?’ Draco asked, laughing.

The shopkeeper nodded firmly. ‘The one in my head.’

‘You have a rush in your head? Strange, I only have voices in mine.’ Draco picked up a basket from a pile by the door. ‘Are you well, Edward? I haven’t seen you for a few days.’

Edward waved him off. ‘Bit of back trouble, that’s all. Nothing serious.’ He resumed stacking his tins as if to make a point. 

‘Should you be doing that?’ Draco asked.

‘Don’t you bloody start. Sound like the wife. I’ll be fine. I don’t want any fuss.’

Draco nodded and moved past him. ‘I see. Just old age creeping in, I suspect.’

Edward laughed. ‘Cheeky bugger! On with you, before you get a tin of baked beans wrapped ‘round your head.’

With an amused smile and a small bow, Draco moved away. He turned when he got to the end of the aisle, slipped his wand from his trouser pocket and pointed it at his friend’s back. 

Edward straightened, frowned, and rubbed his back curiously. ‘Huh. Feels better,’ he muttered, smiling and going back to his display. 

Pleased, Draco slipped his wand back into his pocket.

‘You should be more careful where you do magic,’ a voice whispered in his ear. ‘You never know who’s watching.’

Draco nearly jumped a mile. ‘Good Merlin, you get everywhere, don’t you?!’

Harry Potter shrugged but otherwise said nothing.

Draco regarded him carefully. He still wasn’t pleased at the information which had been blurted out in front of Kasen, but Draco’s anger and desire to beat Potter to a bloody pulp had somewhat diminished over the past two weeks. Now he only wished to burn Potter’s house to the ground. 

Finally, after several seconds of stubborn silence, it was Potter who spoke again. He squatted down to his son’s level and put his hand on his shoulder. ‘Why don’t you go and choose some sweets?’

Warily, little James glanced up at Draco and then back at his father.

‘Go on,’ Potter encouraged. ‘It’s fine.’

James nodded, looked spitefully up at Draco, and made his way to the back of the shop.

‘Look, Malfoy –.’

‘I wasn’t doing Dark Magic,’ Draco said, interrupting. ‘It was a healing spell. Trapped nerve. Before you go running off to your Auror pals. I didn’t think anyone else was in here.’

Potter blinked at him. ‘I know. I was only teasing.’

‘Is that so?’ Draco said, not sure if that was the truth or not. ‘I’m sure you’d like nothing more than to see me finally hang.’

Potter bowed his head and shook it. ‘You are way off the mark. Look, I just wanted to apologise – for the other week. What I said, it was thoughtless and stupid and so typically me to put my great big foot into my even bigger mouth. I’m sorry, okay?’

Draco opened and closed his mouth for a while. The very last thing he expected was an apology from the great Chosen One. Well, obviously, Potter was up to something. 

‘I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, Potter, but it won’t wash.’

‘I’m not playing at anything. I’m just trying to apologise. I’m not even asking for an apology from you –’

‘I should think not!’

‘– even though you insulted my son and made him cry.’

‘I did no such thing.’

‘Yes, you did,’ Potter said wearily. ‘But it’s fine. It’s done. Can we move on?’

Draco looked confused. ‘Move on where?’ he asked. Something suddenly occurred to him. ‘Potter, what are you even doing here? Are you stalking me?!’

‘Uh, no, definitely not. I live here, actually.’

‘Here,’ Draco repeated, pointing at the ground. ‘Right here.’

‘Well, not _right_ here, obviously. Old Parsonage Court. I just bought a cottage there.’

‘My life just keeps getting better and better. What on earth possessed you to move here?!’

‘Why, what’s wrong with it?’ 

‘I’m here!’

Potter smirked. ‘You may have a point.’ 

‘I … was that supposed to be funny?’ 

Potter shrugged again and grinned. ‘So, fancy showing me the sites?’

‘No, I don’t. Please leave me alone.’ Draco snatched a loaf of bread from the shelf behind Potter and stalked off down the aisle in search of eggs and washing-up liquid. He seized a large bottle of water on the way and glanced around for Kasen. 

‘Kasen, hurry up,’ he called. 

There was no answer.

‘Kasen, what _are_ you doing?’ Draco could hear the murmur of little voices and he tracked them over to the crisps, biscuits and sweets. 

‘It’s mine! I saw it first,’ Kasen insisted, holding firmly to one end of a large bag of Bobby’s Sherbet Flying Saucers. 

‘No, you didn’t! I did. Give it to me!’ James replied, holding on to the other end just as tightly. 

Kasen tugged. ‘You can have one of the other bags,’ he argued, nodding his head at the other three identical bags hanging between the Jelly Babies and the Revels. ‘These are mine.’

James tugged back. ‘They’re mine! You’re so stupid!’

‘At least _I_ don’t smell!’

Draco felt rather at a loss. Kasen had never argued with another child before and Draco had no idea what to do. 

Potter stood next to him with an armful of French bread. ‘At least they’re arguments are more mature than ours.’

Draco glared. 

‘You’re horrible, just like your dad!’ James wailed.

Kasen let go of the bag of sherbet like it had burned him. ‘Take that back! My dad isn’t horrible! He’s the best dad in the world! He’s better than your pooey dad.’ 

‘I HATE YOU!” James shouted, throwing the bag and missing Kasen by an absolute mile. 

James was getting visibly upset now, his eyes watery and his face red, and Kasen looked to be on the verge of some kind of psychotic break. Draco moved to intercept.

‘He tried to take my Flying Saucers!’ Kasen defended before Draco had so much as opened his mouth. 

‘Just tell me this, Kasen, is it really worth arguing over?’

‘Yes,’ Kasen said stubbornly.

‘Really? Considering there are another three bags just over there? Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well I think you’re being very silly.’

‘He _started_ it.’ 

‘I really don’t care who started it, or who said or did what. I want it to stop – right now.’

Kasen crossed his arms and studiously ignored James’s wailing. ‘I didn’t do anything,’ he muttered.

Draco raised an eyebrow which meant he didn’t believe that for a second. ‘I think you’re both as bad as each other.’ 

‘Erm, I think I’d better just take this one home,’ Potter interrupted, putting down the loaves and hoisting his son up onto his hip. ‘It’s been a long few weeks. He’s just tired. Sorry.’

Draco nodded and swallowed down the urge to apologise back. 

‘I hate it here, Daddy. I want to go home. I want to go back.’ Streams of tears fell down James’s face and he took great gulps of air trying to breathe between his sobs. 

Draco was sure he could feel something like guilt gnawing away at his insides as James cried and cried, and when he looked down at Kasen he could see real upset start to creep over his son’s face, too. He looked questioningly up at Draco and Draco nodded.

‘I’m sorry,’ Kasen said, more to Potter because James had buried his face in his father’s t-shirt. 

‘It’s okay. Don’t worry. Everybody argues now and again. Don’t get upset over it.’

But Kasen was going to get upset over it. He sniffed a couple of times and then the tears came. Half of Draco just wanted to comfort his son and the other half wanted to ban all children from speaking to each other in public. He settled for the first option, opening his arms and grasping Kasen tightly.

‘Don’t cry, Kasen, please.’

‘Yeah, there’s nothing to get upset over,’ Potter added. ‘Look, Draco, I’ve really got to go, but – and this probably the last thing you want to do – we should probably try to patch this up.’

Draco just nodded, taken aback by Potter’s use of his first name. 

‘I’m number twenty-eight Old Parsonage Court. It’s the white cottage that’s set back further than the others. Maybe bring Kasen ‘round in a day or two?’

There was a pleading look in Potter’s eyes that Draco had never seen before and it unnerved him so much that he found himself agreeing to go over there. ‘How about tomorrow?’

‘Great,’ Potter said uneasily, looking as awkward as Draco felt. ‘Tomorrow’s great. I’ll make some lunch. One o’clock suit you?’

‘That will be fine.’

Potter said goodbye and hastened from the shop, leaving Kasen still sniffling and Draco feeling completely stunned and out of sorts. 

‘What have you gotten me into?’ Draco muttered.

**

_Draco crept slowly and carefully into the dimly lit room. ‘Mother?’ he whispered._

_She slipped from the shadows, her pale hair and face like a floating apparition in the darkness. Her hands touched him, fingers and palms caressing his arms, shoulders, neck, hair …_

_‘Draco. My son. You must go, Draco. You must leave. He does not believe you.’_

_Draco lowered his gaze. ‘I tried.’ He wasn’t sure if he was referring to his failure to kill Dumbledore or his failure to conceal his cowardice from the Dark Lord._

_‘I know, sweetheart. It’s okay.’ She pulled him into an embrace, holding tightly. ‘It’s okay.’_

_‘It isn’t okay, though, is it?’ Draco mumbled, his face pressed down onto his mother’s shoulder. ‘He’s going to kill us. And it’s all my fault.’ His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘What have I done?’_

_‘No.’ His mother’s tone was sharp. She pulled away, keeping her hands firmly on Draco’s shoulders. ‘You mustn’t think like that. None of this is your fault.’_

_Maybe that was true._

_Maybe it wasn’t._

_‘What will we do?’_

_‘You must run, Draco.’_

_His lashes wet and his throat suddenly so dry he couldn’t speak, Draco couldn’t look at her. He felt sick._

_She wasn’t coming with him._

 

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Compliant with all canon up to HBP so there may be spoilers for any of the first six books. As this fic is already planned out in full, it will not be compliant with book 7 and will therefore contain NO SPOILERS.

 

Ten o’clock in the morning and Draco was pacing the living room. Today, he was to visit the home of Harry Potter.

‘I could just not go,’ he said to himself. ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. After all, we do hate each other. Why on earth would he want me in his house? Then again, he’d love it if I didn’t turn up. I can just see his face, the cocky little bastard. No, I won’t give him the satisfaction. I’ll go. I will. I will.’ 

Draco paused at the voile-covered window, glancing through the sheer fabric out to the front garden. He sighed dramatically and adjusted the tall, ivory-coloured figurine on the sill. 

‘Yes. I’ll go; Kasen and James will apologise to each other properly, then we’ll leave. Perfect.’ 

‘Who are you talking to?’ a small voice asked from somewhere in the vicinity of Draco’s elbow.

Draco started and the figurine wobbled between his fingers. ‘No one,’ he said, settling the ornament back into place and stepping away. ‘Myself, perhaps.’

‘Do you want to talk to Archibald?’ Kasen thrust his toy dog into the air, its long, brown ears flopping once as it came to a stop. 

Draco smiled. ‘No, thank you. I think I’m just about done anyway. Are you bringing him with you?’ he asked.

‘Yep. Can I take some other toys, too?’

Draco wasn’t sure about that. He in no way wanted to encourage any ‘settling in’ at Potter’s house. ‘I don’t know, Kasen. I’m sure James has some toys you could play with.’

Kasen wasn’t satisfied with that answer, so he begged, and pleaded, and whined until Draco gave in and allowed one more toy, which turned out to be a box of Fuzzy-Felt. 

They left the house a little earlier than planned as Draco wanted to stop at the shop to pick up a couple of items, and because Kasen tended to drag his feet when forced to carry his own things. 

‘It’s too heavy!’

‘Oh shush. It’s Fuzzy-Felt. How heavy can it be?’

It was a hot day again. The sky was a brilliant blue, not a cloud in sight, and the air smelled of cut grass and roses: Abraham D'Arby, if Draco wasn’t mistaken; his favourite rose. In short, it was a lovely day for a stroll. 

It was not a lovely day to visit one’s old nemesis. Surely there should be lightning and brimstone! And sudden flooding between here and Old Parsonage Road! 

But no such thing happened. The sky stayed bright and no divine entity broke the quiet afternoon tranquillity with any sort of hellish damnation. 

Draco and Kasen left the village shop just five minutes after they entered it, Draco now burdened with a plain blue plastic bag filled with Flying Saucers, two Scooby Doo fun packs and Archibald, who had finally been dropped one time too many.

Another ten minutes later, Draco and Kasen turned down into Old Parsonage Road. 

‘Keep your eyes peeled for number twenty-eight, Kasen.’

Kasen nodded and bounced along happily in front, both hands firmly grasping the long, thin box of Fuzzy-Felt.

It was a nice road, Draco conceded. It was mostly comprised of detached properties, with two or three rows of semi-detached houses thrown in for good measure. One small block of flats was visible on the right as Draco passed, behind a row of tall elms which were perfectly spaced out and swaying gently in the warm breeze. 

‘There!’ Kasen announced, pointing a single finger and dropping one side of the box so that it brushed the gritty pavement. 

Harry Potter’s house wasn’t as Draco had imagined. It was actually quite a modest size, smaller than his house and definitely much older. Draco had thought Potter the sort to go for one of the more modern and spacious cottages that were gaining popularity throughout the county, even though he’d been struggling to picture any of those in Otterbourne. He didn’t know this side of the village all that well, but he’d always thought Old Parsonage Road to be a little more traditional than some places. 

He’d been right about that. 

Harry Potter lived in a charming little thatched cottage with a front door that was surrounded by variegated ivy and had obviously been designed for a hobbit. Oh, dear Merlin, Draco thought, he was probably going to have to duck through all the doorways and under a multitude of ceiling beams. Such fun. 

As Potter had said it would be, the house was set back much further than the others, as though it had been built long before the road had been put in place. Draco made his way down the long path, Kasen now beside him and on his best behaviour. 

‘Remember your apology to James,’ Draco reminded, and then he rung the doorbell and tried not to fidget or run away screaming. It wasn’t easy.

Potter took his time answering the door, which was just typical and probably deliberate. 

‘Hi.’

‘Good afternoon, Potter. Not too early, are we?’ Draco added when Potter seemed to be frozen to the spot.

‘Oh, no, sorry, not at all. Come in.’ Potter looked down at Kasen and smiled. ‘What’s that you’ve got there?’ he asked as they entered.

‘FUZZY-FELT!’ Kasen announced, much louder than was strictly necessary.

Potter laughed. ‘Great! And what would you like to drink?’

‘SQUASH!’ 

‘Someone’s excitable today.’

‘Everyday,’ Draco said with weariness that only the parent of a four-year-old could exude.

Potter took Draco’s drink order and then directed them both over to the sofa, where Draco perched on the very edge of the middle cushion and Kasen sat on the floor at his feet. While Potter trotted off to fetch James from the garden and to fix the drinks, Draco took stock of his surroundings. 

The living room was much smaller than anything Draco was used to. He felt like he should be feeling claustrophobic, but something told him that the tightness in his chest had nothing to do with square footage. 

Potter certainly had done the place justice. The walls smelled like they were recently painted and were a charming fawn colour that Draco immediately coveted. Exposed beams covered the ceiling, and the polished oak floorboards were set off by a huge, shaggy brown rug that lay sprawled in the centre of the room like a great basking hound. A taupe coloured sofa, two matching arm chairs and an expansive oak coffee table that was probably too big for such a small room sat atop the plush rug. It all seemed to work, and the effect was rather … cosy. 

Draco’s nose twitched in annoyance at Potter’s apparent good taste.

‘Drinks are up,’ Potter announced, coming back from the kitchen with a tray of drinks and James.

Kasen stood immediately. ‘Hello,’ he said, addressing James.

James frowned, his black eyebrows knitting together. He seemed reluctant to speak, and Kasen, upon seeing this, frowned back, suddenly unsure.

Draco took his mug of tea from the tray, content to have it sugarless and so ignoring the little bowl of cubes. He tapped Kasen’s arm. ‘Go on. I thought you had something you wanted to say to James.’

Kasen appeared torn for a moment, stubbornness doing battle with manners. In the end, he took a deep breath and apologised. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday. I was very rude and I didn’t mean any of the things I said.’

‘Wow, why wasn’t it ever that easy for you?’ Potter mumbled, taking a seat next to a now glaring Draco.

‘What do you say, James?’ Potter encouraged.

‘… I’m sorry, too.’ It was barely above a whisper. ‘Didn’t mean it.’

Draco held out the blue plastic bag, smiling faintly when Kasen took it and held it out to James – minus Archibald. 

‘My daddy bought us these.’

James took the bag with a large amount of uncertainty, peering inside with all the caution of a man waiting for a snake to jump out of a barrel. At the sight of the bags of sweets, his face transformed.

‘They’re for after lunch,’ Draco said quickly, before anyone got any ideas. ‘And only if there are no more arguments.’

Both boys nodded at him in silent agreement. The sight of them smiling at him and then smiling at each other relaxed Draco somewhat, and he eased himself more comfortably into the sofa.

Potter did the same

‘I brought Fuzzy-Felt for us to play with,’ Kasen said.

James’s eyes widened when he spotted the box lying flat on the table. ‘We could play in my bedroom!’

‘Okay!’

‘Do you want to come see Razzle and Dazzle?’

‘Okay!’

And then both boys were off, speeding away like two little roadrunners.

‘Razzle and Dazzle?’ Draco asked.

‘James’s gold fish,’ Potter supplied. ‘He got them last week. I made the mistake of taking him passed a pet shop. It was either the fish or a rabbit the size of a Volkswagen Beetle.’

‘I see. Easy choice, then.’

Potter nodded emphatically and sipped at his tea. ‘Erm, had Kasen got any pets?’ he asked, clearly trying to keep up the illusion of pleasant conversation.

‘Not at the moment,’ Draco replied, also aware that things were starting to feel tense without the children present. ‘He did have gerbil, but she died last year. Kasen was very upset.’

‘Oh. Sorry about that.’

Draco nodded. ‘He was very attached.’

‘He didn’t want any more?’

‘No. Not at the time, anyway. He has mentioned wanting a puppy recently.’

‘Ah. Not good?’

‘Well, I’m not too worried. He’s also mentioned wanting a kitten, a horse, a guinea pig and a rat. Oh, and a goat.’

Potter laughed. ‘He doesn’t want much, then.’

‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind the goat. Maybe I wouldn’t have to mow the lawn quite so often.’ He was joking, of course. A goat would play havoc with his roses.

‘You mow your own lawn?’ Potter asked, looking quite serious.

Draco turned and stared at him, a little bit lost at the stupidity of the question. ‘Of course. What, do you think it just mows itself?’

‘Well … yeah. Or something. Magic, house-elves, whatever.’ 

‘Oh.’ Draco wasn’t sure how to explain and, really, he wasn’t sure he actually wanted to, at least not to Potter. ‘I don’t use magic for that sort of thing. I prefer to do it myself. And I don’t have a house-elf. I don’t need one. It’s just me and Kasen.’

‘Sorry,’ Potter said, reaching for what appeared to be a ginger nut and dunking it in his tea. ‘I just assumed –.’ 

‘You assumed wrong.’ Draco snatched up one of the biscuits and gave it a cautionary sniff before inserting it into his mug. 

'You can hardly blame me, Malfoy. I don’t know anything about you anymore. You’ve been AWOL for so long. Even the _Prophet_ has given up on you.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Draco said tiredly. ‘It certainly took them long enough.’

‘Is this where you disappeared to? Here?’

Draco nodded and fixed his gaze on the opposite wall where a large bookcase stood. There were several titles he recognised. ‘I couldn’t stay. Circumstances changed. I had Kasen to think of.’

‘Must have been hard.’

Potter was clearly trying to be the understanding ex-nemesis, but how could he even begin know how hard it had been? Or how awful it had been to walk down Diagon Alley to jeers and contemptuous stares? Or how it felt to be spat on by children? Or what it was like to rub shoulders with dark wizards because no one else would accept his business?

‘It wasn’t the life I wanted for Kasen.’

‘So, you’re living as a … Muggle?’ The question was asked carefully, as though Potter was expecting an eruption of lava to come spilling from the top of Draco’s head.

‘More or less. I still use magic, to entertain Kasen and for those times when clearing up a puddle of chocolate-cake-induced vomit is the only option aside from just leaving it and moving house.’ 

‘That’s fair enough,’ Potter said with a knowing nod. ‘You must have wards or spells up at your house, too, or something. The _Prophet_ spent a _long_ time looking for you. ’

‘Fidelius Charm.’

‘Same here.’

Draco raised a brow at that. So, Potter was running away, too? What could the Man-Who-Had-Everything possibly have to run away from? 

‘Hiding, Potter?’

‘Yep.’

Taken aback, Draco put down his mug and abandoned the rest of his biscuit. ‘Who on earth from?’

Potter shrugged. ‘The _Prophet_ , the Ministry, the general population.’

‘Just a few people, then?’ Draco asked.

Potter nodded. ‘Just a few,’ he agreed.

‘May I ask why?’

Draco watched Potter grin wryly. It wasn’t a happy expression at all. ‘Ask me another time?’

‘Fine,’ Draco said. ‘What else shall I pry into, then?’

‘Take your pick. But expect me to pry back.’ 

‘I see.’ Draco definitely wasn’t up for that. ‘How about you show me the rest of your house instead. I’d love to see your garden.’

Maybe he should have been making escape plans, but Draco found himself more relaxed in the company of another than he had in a long time. Even though it was Potter and most of his brain was screaming for him to leave and have nothing to do with him, his heart whispered and reminded him how lonely he was. 

*****

__

_Draco pulled the hood of his cape further over his face. He walked down a slim, pot-holed alley, glancing over his shoulder every fifth step and ignoring the rain as it thumped over his head in thick, heavy droplets._

_He had a list, penned by his mother and given in haste. Draco pulled it out with slippery-wet fingers and checked the first address. He would find no friends on this list, but he would find shelter and help without any questions, in order of reliability, if he was lucky._

_He wasn’t lucky._

_Burned out and barely standing, his planned refuge had been taken away from him. His contact was gone._

_He checked the list again. The next contact was fifty miles away._

_‘Keep moving, Draco. Never stop. Don’t let them find you. Don’t let him find you.’_

_‘ _Please_ come with me.’ _

_She’d stayed behind to buy him time, to cover for him, and by now she was probably dead or worse._

_Draco looked up at the other buildings for the first time. Maybe someone else could help him? They all knew his father, after all. He blinked the rain out of his eyes, his chest full of impulsive hope._

_The hope cracked and withered and Draco’s heart twisted painfully and fearfully at what he saw._

_Everything was burned, destroyed, taken away._

_Knockturn Alley was gone._

__

*****

 

After Potter had given Draco a tour of the garden and Draco had proclaimed it to be horrifically untidy, Potter had called the children down from upstairs and served lunch.

The pasta was nice enough, the smoked salmon a nice treat, but mostly Draco enjoyed observing Kasen and James. They chatted away quite happily and Draco briefly wished he had Kasen’s apparent ability to get on with anyone. 

‘Does Kasen ever go to the day care centre in the village?’ Potter whispered to him.

Draco nodded. ‘Three days a week for half a day. More for him than me,’ he added, suddenly afraid that Potter would think he enjoyed abandoning his child.

‘Is it any good?’

Draco frowned. Of course it was good! ‘Absolutely. Why?’

‘I’m thinking of starting James there. I know First School isn’t far off, but I thought maybe it would be easier for him to get to know a few of the local kids first.’

‘He’s going to First School this year?’ Draco asked, surprised. He’d assumed that James was younger than Kasen and would perhaps miss out by a year. ‘Which one?’

‘Erm, the local one? I haven’t looked into it yet. Actually, I don’t even know if there is one.’

Draco rolled his eyes. No wonder Potter always had his friends gathered around him; he needed all the help he could get.

‘Of course there’s a local school. It’s supposed to be excellent. It does have a religious connection, unfortunately, but it’s Church of England so they’re not enormously bothered if you don’t walk around with a bible around your neck.’ 

‘You’re sending Kasen there? This year?’

‘Yes.’

Potter’s face lit up. Then it dropped again, dramatically. ‘What if they haven’t got room?’

Draco nearly choked on a piece of salmon. ‘You actually haven’t enrolled him yet?! Anywhere?!’

‘Uh, well, I’ve been busy and, erm, damn it. They’re going to be full up, aren’t they?’

Draco watched Potter look worriedly at James, who was completely oblivious to the whole conversation because he was involved in a heated debate with Kasen over Coco Pops versus Cheerios. 

‘It would be nice for him to go with a friend,’ Potter said quietly. ‘He hasn’t had many.’

Draco’s heart broke, snapped into two horribly jagged pieces, and he mentally scolded himself for being such a big, soft pushover. He blamed Kasen entirely for his new reasonable demeanour and appalling kind streak. 

‘As it happens, I’ve spoken with the Headmistress at length and we’ve struck up a very cordial relationship. Perhaps I could telephone her, see if there’s any possibility of getting James in.’

Not that Draco wanted nor needed Harry Potter in his life. But maybe he could do something for James, something to make up for reducing him to tears on their very first meeting. Not that Draco felt at all guilty.

‘You’d do that for us?’ Potter asked softly. ‘Draco, that’s –.’

‘Don’t make a fuss,’ Draco snapped. A wall had toppled over and he was struggling to pile the bricks back up.

Potter paused then nodded and plunged his fork back into his pile of pasta, shovelling it into his mouth. ‘Thank you,’ he said with his full mouth.

‘– even turns the milk chocolaty,’ Kasen’s firm voice insisted. ‘It says so on the telly.’

‘I prefer Crunchy Nut Cornflakes,’ Draco said, turning his attention back to his son. ‘I’m a Crunchy Nut.’

The boys giggled, and the conversation moved on to Transformers and the local shop prices compared to those at the nearby Sainsbury’s Superstore. 

All in all, it was a pleasant afternoon despite a few awkward moments, Potter’s terrible attempt at trifle, and Kasen’s new insistence that he wanted two goldfish which he would name Izzy and Wizzy. 

They left the Potter residence just after six, and Draco carried a tired Kasen most of the way home. The sun was hidden low behind the trees. The air was still hot and thin, but at least now there were long shadows to guide the way and provide comfort. 

Draco walked slowly, enjoying the peaceful evening; the flutter of cabbage whites; the cooing of pigeons; and the way every tree, hedgerow and climbing shrub swayed in the breeze, as if they could sense his innermost feelings and wanted to dance to his calm.

Draco didn’t have any friends. He just had Kasen. But today Draco had felt a buzz of old feelings and the tiniest flicker of desire to reach out and connect to another adult. 

He hadn’t felt that urge in the last four years. 

 

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

For three days after lunch with Potter, Draco flailed. He burned eggs, shrank t-shirts, put his door keys in the fridge and forgot to wake Kasen for day care.

On day four, Draco finally decided enough was enough. He wasn’t going to think about Potter or James for a moment longer. 

Then he remembered he had promised Potter he would call Otterbourne First School to arrange a meeting with the Headmistress. 

Damnation.

The phone call to the school was relatively un-traumatic. The Headmistress, Mrs Appling, was pleased to hear from him and was more than happy to meet with Potter and his son. Now all Draco had to do was telephone Potter and tell him the good news.

So, an hour later, Draco found himself sitting on the edge of Kasen’s bed, biting his bottom lip and watching Kasen feed his new fish with all the care of a surgeon performing a heart bypass. 

Izzy and Wizzy surfaced, their mouths suckering up fish flakes like a vacuum cleaner inhaling handkerchiefs. 

‘How would you like to telephone James?’ Draco asked. 

Kasen gasped and scrambled from the bed. Draco caught the tub of fish flakes before they could hit the floor and spill.

‘Yes, please!’ 

Draco stood and held out his hand, smiling faintly when Kasen grasped it. ‘Come on, then. You can tell him all about your new friends.’

‘Izzy and Wizzy!’

‘Exactly. And then you could give him a message for me, for his father.’

Excited, Kasen nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘Tell James that I’ve spoken with the school and his father is to contact Mrs Appling at his convenience. She has agreed to meet with them both and it all looks rather hopeful. Got that?’

Kasen nodded again and threw himself down on the sofa. ‘Got it. Can I tell James about when we saw that lady fall over?’

Draco remembered the woman in Paul’s Pets as she slipped on a squeaky hot dog and landed on a pile of Eukanuba. Draco had managed to hide his amusement, but Kasen had roared with laughter, pointing and then telling the sales girl that it was good enough to make You’ve Been Framed. Draco had picked up their bag of fish, grabbed Kasen’s hand, and fled. 

‘If you must, but try not to laugh; it wasn’t funny.’ Draco and Kasen smirked at each other.

Draco flipped open his address book and found Potter’s number. He dialled, waited for the ringing tone, shoved the phone at Kasen, and quickly attended to something urgent in the garden. 

Actually, there was always something to do in the garden and at first glance, Draco   
could see a wilting rose and … my goodness, a bramble! Draco hurried over to it, stopping at the shed to collect his secateurs, gloves, spade and kneeler. While he unwrapped the monstrous weed from his precious _Marie de Blois,_ Draco tried not to think about what a coward he was. 

Friendship was a wonderful thing, but there were times when it came with a price. 

Harry Potter was back in his life – his new life; the one he’d built just for him and Kasen. It was a peaceful existence, if a little lonely, but Draco could honestly say that _was_ happy, certainly much more so than he had been before he’d left the wizarding world behind. 

It was all very well latching on to Potter like a familiar, if somewhat threadbare, blanket, but what did it really mean? Was Potter still in touch with his friends? Who knew Potter was here?

How long would it be until they all descended and wrecked Draco’s perfect little life? It scared him much more than he cared to admit.

‘Bugger,’ Draco whispered to himself. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

It was forty minutes later when Draco carefully crept back into his own house. He found Kasen sitting happily on the sofa singing along to an advert for car insurance. 

Draco sat down next to him. ‘Everything all right?’ he asked.

Kasen grinned at him. ‘James is starting day care with me on Wednesday.’

‘Hm. Yes. Wonderful,’ Draco said. ‘Did you give him my message?’

‘Yes, Daddy. Mr Potter said thank you very much.’

‘Did he? Oh good.’ Draco drummed his fingers on his knees and tried to decide what he was feeling. Whatever it was, it was complicated. ‘Did you speak with him yourself?’ 

‘Yep.’

‘And he didn’t ask to speak to me?’

‘Nope.’

‘I see.’ Draco got up and went back to the garden muttering something about ungrateful wizards.

**

On the Wednesday, Draco was up extra early, partly because a thoughtless blackbird was making a Merlin-awful crowing noise directly outside his window, partly because he felt a little bit sick, partly because he still hadn’t decided what to wear, and partly because he wanted to make sure he had time to use the hair straighteners he would never admit to owning. 

He roused Kasen at a quarter to eight and got him washed and dressed. 

‘I’m going to see James today,’ Kasen reminded him. 

‘Are you? I’d completely forgotten.’

‘We might see Mr Potter!’

Draco poured milk onto Kasen’s Rice Krispies, and buttered him a slice of toast. ‘I suppose we might,’ he said casually.

Kasen looked at him with little narrowed eyes. Draco wasn’t sure what was going through his son’s mind at that moment. Kasen had a not-so-funny habit of seeing right through him, even when there was nothing to see, such as now.

‘Hurry up and finish your cereal,’ Draco said as Kasen opened his mouth to say something probably far too insightful for a four-year-old. ‘But not too fast or you’ll get indigestion.’ 

‘What?’

‘Belly ache. And don’t say “what”.’

Kasen rolled his eyes, sighed: ‘Yes, daddy,’ and, with absolute concentration, went about the exceedingly difficult task of eating Rice Krispies at the perfect speed. 

At eight-twenty-five exactly, Draco and Kasen left the house and walked to the nearest bus stop, which was a mere thirty second walk. The bus arrived precisely three minutes late, as it always did. 

It wasn’t far from Draco’s house to the day care centre, but Draco liked to take Kasen there on the bus; firstly, because Kasen adored the bus; and secondly, it left Kasen with more energy to enjoy his morning. They always walked home afterwards and that last bit of exercise generally tired Kasen out just in time for a rather convenient nap.

Draco flashed his Megarider ticket to the driver and let Kasen lead the way to the seats near the back, which Kasen preferred as they were higher. 

As the bus rounded the corner, the morning sun streamed though all the windows on the left side of bus, blinding anyone stupid enough to sit that side. Sitting on the right, it was just comfortably warm, and Draco let his thoughts drift to how much flour he had left in the pantry and whether it was time to have the Leylandii tree removed from the front garden before it blocked out all the sun or, worse, fell down. 

Kasen pointed out three squirrels – one horribly squashed on the other side of the road – and then the usual group of teenaged school children got on and took their place along the very back seats. 

The bus passed Old Parsonage Road and Draco deliberately didn’t look. Kasen, however, pressed his face to the glass and watched until the road was out of sight. He was in danger of doing himself a serious mischief with his head squashed up against the window at such a curious angle. He unravelled himself at last and beamed up at Draco. 

Five minutes later, Draco nudged his son, and Kasen leaned over to press the bell. 

Kasen had been going to Ladybird Day Care Centre for the past year, ever since Draco had realised that keeping Kasen with him all of the time was both selfish and unhealthy for his son. If he hadn’t let go then, he would never have let go.

But still, Kasen was a relatively solitary child. He seemed to enjoy his three days a week at the playgroup, but was always happy when Draco collected him at home-time and never asked to see the other children outside of Ladybird hours. Draco sometimes wondered of he’d done Kasen irreparable damage by not adequately socialising him at an earlier age. Yet Kasen seemed content: he coloured books, read, made jigsaw puzzles, played games, sang to himself and pestered Draco constantly for made-up stories. He was a happy child, and Draco comforted himself with that fact.

They crossed the road to the day centre and, as usual, Draco took Kasen all the way inside, pausing at the door to search his memory for the security code, as he did every time. He nodded politely and said good morning to Janie, who had come to take Kasen’s jacket, and then spotted Potter and his son standing off to the side.   
‘Look, Kasen, there’s James. Why don’t you go and say hello, make him feel welcome.’

Kasen dashed over there and Draco followed at a much more leisurely pace.

‘I’ll stay with you, okay? For today. Come on, I know you’ll enjoy yourself,’ Draco heard Potter say.

‘Won’t,’ James replied, wiping angrily at his eyes with the backs of his hands. ‘Don’t like it.’ 

‘Hello,’ Kasen interrupted with childish obliviousness. 

‘Hey, Kasen,’ Potter greeted. ‘Draco.’

‘Potter.’

‘Are you coming to play?’ Kasen asked. ‘I’ll show you where the sparkles are. They’ve got gold ones now.’

James shook his head and burrowed closer to his father. ‘Don’t want to.’

Kasen just blinked at him, not comprehending the problem. ‘But … Mrs Thomas is going to let us play the traffic light game today. She promised!’

James wiped at his eyes again, looking a little bit intrigued. ‘What’s that?’

‘You have to run around and around and around and around and when Mrs Thomas shouts “red” you have to stand really still, and when she shouts “amber” you have to sit down really quickly. And you can only move when she shouts “green”.’ 

‘That sounds like fun, doesn’t it, James?’ Potter said with the biggest fake smile Draco had ever seen.

‘Mm.’

‘They give you biscuits at eleven if you’re good,’ Draco added. ‘Chocolate ones sometimes.’

‘Come _on,_ ’ Kasen whined. ‘It’s _fun._ My daddy will make you a bird.’

Draco felt huge green, watery eyes turn to him, full of hope and a little bit of anticipation. ‘Of course I will. A special one just for you.’ He held out his hand, surprised when James immediately took it, and led them all over to a table in the corner.

Potter looked bemused until Kasen passed over a huge sheet of green paper and Draco started to fold. 

‘You remember my paper birds, don’t you, Potter? I’m sure I made you at least one or two when we were at school.’

A look of sudden recollection shot across Potter’s face. ‘Oh yeah, I remember.’ 

Draco looked up and cheerfully returned Potter’s dawning grin.

‘It’s called _Ori - gami,_ ’ Kasen said slowly and carefully, his gazed fixed on Draco’s hands and the bird taking shape, ‘isn’t it, Daddy?’

‘Absolutely right. Well done.’

Potter raised his eyebrows at Kasen, looking impressed, and Draco felt a whoosh of pride zip through him. 

‘Daddy can do other animals, too,’ Kasen bragged, clearly just as proud of his father as his father was of him.

‘There you go. One special bird just for you.’ Draco handed over the paper bird and James took it with careful hands and an awed expression. James thanked him shyly and grinned up at his father.

A little crowd had gathered by this point, some who had seen Draco demonstrate this talent before and some who hadn’t.

‘Can I have a bird, too?’ a little girl with a flowery yellow dress and a face full of freckles asked.

Mrs Thomas dropped a pile of coloured paper in front of Draco. ‘Looks like you’re going to be here for awhile,’ she remarked as she walked away.

Not having anything better to do, Draco took the top sheet of paper and began making another bird, a smaller one with not so many intricacies. All the children watched avidly. 

One hour, eighteen paper birds, three paper giraffes and one paper duck-billed platypus later, Draco was done and James was feeling settled enough for Potter to leave him.

They walked outside together and stood at the entrance.

‘You were good with them,’ Potter said, ‘and with James. Thanks. You’ve been …’ Potter flapped his hand, ‘you know.’

Draco nodded, quite sure that he did indeed know. ‘You’re welcome. I can’t stand to see a child upset – usually. Erm, I don’t know if I ever apologised for what happened at Farley Mount, but … I do – apologise, I mean. My temper still gets away with me sometimes.’

Potter nodded at him. ‘Thank you.’

Draco hesitated, afraid of what he might be letting into his life while still yearning for … something. Companionship. ‘Well, I suppose I should be going.’

‘Yeah, me too. I suppose. Unless, do you want to get a drink or something? A coffee?’

Draco’s heart thumped a little harder and he linked his fingers behind his back in case they started shaking. ‘I prefer tea,’ he said coolly, ‘as well you know.’

‘Beg your pardon,’ Potter said cordially and with forward tilt of his head. ‘Then how about tea? My treat.’

‘All right, then. A trip into town?’ he suggested quickly, mostly to avoid any question of Potter asking to come home with him.

‘Into Winchester? Sounds great. I haven’t been yet.’

‘Haven’t _been?_ My goodness, what’s wrong with you?’

Potter shrugged. ‘You know how it is when you move. And, uh, James isn’t very good with crowds.’

There was a story there, Draco was sure of it. He wasn’t so sure if it was one he would get to hear. 

**

__

_It was so cold, but blessedly dark. No-one would see him. No-one would know he was here and recognise him._

_The house was abandoned; Draco had watched the family leave and then the Death Eaters arrive. The family hadn’t gotten far and the street had lit up with flashes of brilliant green death._

_Concealed in a shed just three doors down, Draco had waited the night and the next day, afraid to peek in case they were waiting for him, lined up like a firing squad, their wands drawn and their lips curving up in pleasure._

_Now Draco huddled in the back bedroom, squeezed into a corner, his belly finally full but his hands unable to stop shaking. He would stay here just one night and then move on. His mother had told him to keep moving and so he would do just that. His trust for her was implicit, as it always had been._

_Now he feared he would never trust another. Or he would never be given the chance._

_He shut his eyes and tried not to hear her voice screaming inside his head._

__

***

Draco was pleasantly surprised to find that Potter could drive. He owned a very spacious, silver Peugeot 307 SW: a fine looking vehicle, sort of like an Estate but a little more snazzy. 

Draco had often wondered if he should learn to drive; it certainly would be more convenient, and it would be nice just to get in and drive Kasen to wherever they both wanted to go. The beach would be nice.

They didn’t speak much on the journey into town. Potter had some modern-sounding music playing softly from the stereo and Draco was content to gaze out of the window; there was always something to see, something to observe.

Draco directed them to the Guildhall, a magnificent Victorian building in the centre of the city. It was a beautiful place and one that Draco loved to come to, but didn’t often get the chance. The last time was just before a graduation ceremony set to take place at the cathedral. He’d lounged on the wall opposite and watched the boys and girls, men and women, posing for pictures upon the front staircase, dressed in long black gowns and funny square hats. They could almost have been witches and wizards, if the hats had been pointier. Draco had felt his heart clench painfully. He’d never been given the opportunity to graduate Hogwarts. But perhaps that was just a small regret compared to everything else. 

That day he’d taken Kasen for a picnic in the cathedral grounds. They’d sat in the shade of a great oak, with sandwiches, cakes and small cartons of Ribena, making daisy chains and watching the graduates file into the cathedral and then out again, surrounded by friends and family, every face smiling and excited. 

The car jolted to a stop.

‘Sorry,’ Potter apologised. ‘Haven’t got used to the brakes yet.’

They parked in a car park at the top of town, and Draco led them back down past King Alfred’s statue and Draco’s favourite bakery, which he thought proper to point out. He was sure James would love their Cherry Bakewells. 

As it was a midweek morning and the schools were still in, just, the city centre wasn’t too busy. A few people milled about here and there, but it lacked the sort of bustle one would expect to find in one of the larger cities.

‘Wow, nice,’ Potter said as they approached the Guildhall. 

‘I like it.’

‘There’s really a café in there?’

‘There is. A very nice one.’

They walked up the stairs together in companionable silence, Potter looking all around him, every inch the tourist, and Draco pleased that he’d shown him something worth seeing.

The café was a sizable establishment, the inside beautifully ornate with high, stone ceilings. They chose to sit outside, though, as it was a nice day, and managed to find a table which was suitably shady. They ordered tea for two and a pastry each. 

‘I think you’ll like it here,’ Draco blurted before the companionable silence turned awkward. ‘James certainly will. There’s so much to keep a curious mind active and interested.’

‘I hope so,’ Potter said quietly. ‘It’s been really hard for him.’

Draco stared at him for a long time, wondering what was going through Potter’s head, wondering if Potter needed to talk just like he had needed to. Draco had opened his heart and spilled his woes to an infant, his only friend. Maybe, if Potter wanted a …

‘You really are running, aren’t you?’ Draco said.

Potter nodded and stared into his tea.

‘May I ask why?’

Potter was silent and for a while Draco thought he wasn’t going to be privy to an answer.

‘It was too much. Too much for too long.’

‘What was? The glory of being Saint Potter? Got boring, did it?’ There was no heat behind the words and not a hint of a joke either. 

‘Actually, yes.’

Draco put down his cup in shock. ‘Explain.’

‘Are you going to tell me I’m ungrateful, that I never went through what you did?’ Potter asked.

‘You don’t know what I went though,’ Draco said, his voice turning several degrees colder.

‘I’ve got a pretty good idea. And I’m sorry I didn’t help you.’

‘You don’t change, do you, Potter? Always talking such bollocks.’

‘I mean it.’

‘No you don’t. You didn’t give two hoots about me, the disgraced Death Eater, and that was fair enough. You had your victory parade, which you deserved. I just had my regrets.’

Potter’s expression crumpled into confusion. ‘Did you just have a go at me or say something nice?’

Draco shifted awkwardly, one eye squinting as the breeze picked up, shifted a shrub and exposed the sun. ‘I’m not sure. Knowing me, I was having a go.’ 

Potter laughed and rubbed wearily at his forehead. ‘There’s the Draco I love to hate.’

‘I never left the building.’

‘You are different, though. Really different. I’m sorry I opened my big trap about your dad in front of Kasen. And I am sorry _now_ that I didn’t help you when you needed it most. I’m sorry that I used –’

‘Let’s not think about any of that. What’s done is done. Why don’t we talk about why you’re running?’

Potter nodded, taking the hint that it was time to shut up. There were some things Draco didn’t want to think about.

‘They wouldn’t leave me alone,’ Potter whispered.

‘Who?’ Draco demanded to know.

‘The _Prophet_. The public. The Ministry. I was either their saviour and they chased me everywhere I went, their fucking cameras clicking in my face and people constantly touching me, touching James, wanting a piece of us. Or, I was public enemy number one.’

‘Yes, I saw you fall from grace on the _Prophet’s_ front page a few times.’

‘It was so much more than that. And I never did anything to deserve it. I’m just me. I’m just human, a normal human wizard. I make mistakes; I fuck up; I’m just like everyone else. But no-one else seems to get that. They think they own a piece of me, that I’m public property. I couldn’t stand it anymore.’

‘How bad did it get exactly?’

‘People camped out on my front lawn. Photographers and reporters following me wherever I went. My house was broken into. They forced their way into James’s playgroup. He was terrified. We couldn’t go out without someone begging us to help them. And that was when I was liked.’

‘And when you were disliked?’

Potter leaned forward, putting his elbows onto the wooden table. ‘I’m sure you remember what they did to you.’

He did. It had been hell. In the end he’d confined himself to the manor. ‘The _Prophet!_ ’ he spat, throwing his hands up into the air. ‘Let’s rile up the public with some cock and bull story! Let’s see whose life we can ruin next with lies and exaggerations!’

‘Exactly!’ Potter snapped. He drained his cup, slammed it back on the saucer and reached for the tea pot.

Draco tried to remember some of the things he’d read about Potter in the _Prophet_ in recent months. He was willing to bet at least half of them weren’t true. He didn’t take the _Prophet’s_ word for anything. The only reason he still subscribed to the grubby excuse for a rag was to keep abreast of what was being said about himself. 

‘So … am I right in assuming that James isn’t a squib?’

‘You know, it wouldn’t matter to me if he was,’ Potter said, his top lip curling with distaste. 

‘Nor I,’ Draco quickly defended. ‘There’s no shame in it.’

Potter blinked rapidly. ‘Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?’

‘I grew up, Potter. I learned – the hard way.’

‘Don’t you feel bitter? That they forced you out of your world?’

Draco considered that. ‘Sometimes. Mainly, no, but I do have some regrets about leaving.’

‘Like?’

‘Mostly, that Kasen will never be able to attend Hogwarts.’

‘You’re really never going back?’ Potter asked.

Draco smiled faintly. ‘Are you?’

‘I don’t know,’ Potter said. ‘I wish … I wish Ginny was here. She’d know what to do.’

Draco thought about giving Potter his condolences, but it seemed a little late and probably a little fake. He settled on something neutral. ‘I expect you miss her.’

‘Like crazy. She was one of my best friends. James talks about her everyday.’

‘I assume the _Prophet_ lied about _all_ of that, too?’

Potter grinned to himself. ‘No, they got a few bits and pieces right.’

Draco sipped his tea and arched an eyebrow. ‘So, you’re a megalomaniacal, bisexual adulterating attention seeker with a penchant for half-goblins?’

‘Erm, okay, no. But they did get the bisexual bit right. As you know.’

Draco’s cup paused momentarily on the way from his mouth to the saucer. 

‘But Ginny and I divorced because we weren’t in love,’ Potter continued. ‘It was mutual. We were friends. The damn _Prophet_ _knew_ that. Then when she died, they jumped on me like I was the cancer that killed her.’

Draco remembered reading about Ginny’s death about two years ago, and he remembered the scandal that had hit just a few months later. He knew it was all probably lies, but the bitter little boy inside him had wanted to believe that Potter had hastened his wife’s death by taking her son away from her. ‘You took James because she was ill? She couldn’t look after him anymore.’

Potter shook his head. ‘No, at the _end_ , she couldn’t look after him, but we always had joint custody, so there was never a point where I _took him away._ One day he was with me and he was never able to go back.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Draco said.

‘Yeah, so am I. James watched his mother die and then he was forced to watch them rip his father apart. It’s no wonder he’s so withdrawn. I couldn’t let him suffer like that anymore. Enough was enough.’

‘Understandable.’

They fell silent for a while after that. Draco drained his tea and finished his croissant. He listened to the twittering of the birds in the potted tree behind him and the clinking of saucers and plates as the waitress cleared away a table over in the corner. ‘Where are your friends?’ he said.

‘Around. They’ve really stuck by me – Ron and Hermione especially, and Molly has been wonderful; I would have died of starvation if it hadn’t been for her roast chickens.’

Draco nodded. ‘But you still had to get away.’

‘They left me no choice. Just like they didn’t leave you one either.’

No, they hadn’t. The _Prophet_ had ripped him to shreds on a weekly, and sometimes daily, basis. Lie after lie after lie. The Manor became his prison and his body a convict. He’d wished for Azkaban.

‘How much of it was true?’ Potter asked. ‘What they said about you.’

‘Some of it was ludicrously untrue. Obviously. I mean, me, stalking a Hufflepuff? Really.’

Potter laughed, then thought better of it, stifling the last snigger behind his apple turnover.

‘Oh go on, laugh, that one is rather funny, looking back on it,’ Draco responded lightly. ‘But it was awful at the time. You name it, I was accused of it. And the worse thing was that much of it could very well have been the sort of trick my father used to pull.’

‘Tarred with the same brush,’ Potter remarked.

‘Quite. And a lot of it perfectly deserved. But I don’t think I deserved to be hounded, to have my whole life turned into a freak show. It was a lonely and unbearable existence, Potter, I won’t deny it. I did the right thing in leaving. I’ve spent the best years of my life here with Kasen.’

Potter looked thoughtful and Draco just knew Potter wanted to ask about Kasen’s mother. The _Prophet_ had harped on and _on_ about it, wondering who the mother was and how Draco knew her and why he and the baby disappeared shortly after the baby’s birth. And still, to this day, they speculated.

‘Rita Skeeter should be hung, drawn and quartered,’ Draco said, just to distract Potter from asking any unwelcome questions. ‘And then diced, put in a stew and fed to her minions. How that harpy ever became editor I’ll never know.’

‘You’re asking the wrong person.’

‘Hm.’

That sat a while longer, slowly easing out the serious conversation and bringing in easier topics such as what was showing at the theatre, Otterbourne’s dreadfully noisy bin collections, and the absolute necessity of supporting the local milkman. By the time it came to leave, they had fallen into an easy and light banter, the harshness of the wizarding world left behind in their saucers along with spilled tea and a small black fly. 

The wandered around for a little while, Draco showing Potter the top part of the town and the cathedral. His stupidly rash suggestion of a picnic for the boys was met with a pleased smile and a statement that James liked cheese and pickle sandwiches. 

Potter’s behaviour was agreeable enough, much more pleasant than he remembered from school or the years that followed it. He had always wondered how Potter’s scrawny bunch of followers had tolerated someone with such a martyr complex.

Maybe Potter had changed. The war had certainly sobered Draco, so maybe it was the same for Potter. 

Maybe now it was possible for them to meet somewhere in the middle of their legendary personality clash and actually get along.

Draco chose not to mention it.

 

TBC …


	5. Chapter 5

June turned to July and the weather got hotter. Draco’s garden burst into flower, Californian-lilacs, hydrangeas and buddleia colouring the edges with intermittent smudges of mauve and purple between vibrant shocks of pink roses and the white and yellow of tree poppies. 

The grass was slightly longer than normal, which annoyed Draco greatly as he marched across it, heading for the far right corner of his garden, secateurs and gloves in hand. He itched to mow it shorter, but the hot, dry weather was already browning the tips of the blades. Any shorter and he would end up with bald spots in his lawn. That was no laughing matter. 

It was time to cut back some of the early bloomers, Draco had decided. The deadheads just wouldn’t do and the foliage was starting to look untidy. He came to a spotty-leafed lungwort first and started snipping quickly and efficiently. 

When the phone started ringing at eleven o’clock, he almost didn’t hear it, and by the time he answered it, he was breathless from the sudden sprint.

‘Hello? … What? No, you’re mistaken … I see … I’ll be right there.’

Draco checked his watch. There was a bus due in two minutes. He grabbed his keys and wallet and threw himself out of the house, hurrying down to the bus stop. 

How could this be? Kasen in a fight? At four-years-old? 

Draco’s fingers twitched nervously. This was so unlike his son. Yes, Kasen had a little of the Malfoy temper, but he wasn’t a physical boy at all. He’d never tried to hit or bite or kick or any such thing.

Where was that damn bus?! 

Draco turned to look into the distance as the sun flashed off the windscreen of a silver Peugeot 307.

‘Hey, get in.’ 

Draco stared at Potter through the open passenger window. 

‘Come on. I’m betting we’re going to the same place.’

‘Has James been fighting, too?!’ 

‘Looks like it.’

‘Oh, Merlin.’ Draco swung open the car door and climbed inside, the wooden acorn hanging from the rear-view mirror filling his nostrils with the scent of vanilla. ‘I suppose they’ve been fighting each other,’ he said after he’d banged the door shut.

Potter glanced at him briefly as he pulled out of the bus stop. ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘I really hope not. They’ve been getting on so well.’

Draco nodded even though Potter was watching the road. ‘All I hear is James this and James that.’

‘Yeah, same here. I thought they’d really taken to each other.’

‘As had I.’

They made the rest of the short journey in silence and parked up directly outside the day care centre. They shut their doors in tandem and Potter pointed his keys and locked the car with a beep. 

‘I want us to be friends,’ Potter blurted as they walked up to the door.

Draco stopped and looked up sharply, taken aback by such directness. 

‘Please tell me we can work this out? I don’t want the boys to fall out. And I want us to be friends, too. There no reason why we can’t anymore.’ 

Still unsure what to say, Draco nodded, turned back to the door and punched in the security code. They paused at the office door and Draco figured out what he wanted to say. 

‘Many things can be undone. This is one of them. We will fix this.’

Looking relieved, though Draco couldn’t work out why, Potter let out a long breath and attempted a smile. ‘Thanks.’

Draco knocked on the door.

‘Enter,’ said a firm voice, and Draco and Potter looked almost guiltily at each other before Draco opened the door.

There, standing to the side of Mrs Thomas’s desk, were Kasen and James and one other little boy who Draco couldn’t quite recognise. The reason for this was that the third little boy was covered from head to toe in yellow paint. 

Draco blinked at him, rather surprised, then he pulled himself together ‘What seems to be the problem?’ he said. He realised a split second after he said it, that it was the daftest thing he could ever have come out with. For some reason, Potter had turned away and coughed. 

‘The _problem_ is that Kasen has tipped an _entire_ bucket of yellow paint over this poor boy.’

‘A bucket? What on earth were they doing with a whole bucket of it?’ 

‘They were hand painting, Mr Malfoy, but that’s hardly the – ’

‘Kasen,’ Draco interrupted before Mrs Thomas got going, ‘why did you do such a thing to …’

‘Roland was being mean to James. He kept flicking paint at him and then he called him a rude name. I warned him, Daddy,’ Kasen said, quite seriously, ‘but he said it again. So I tipped the paint over his stupid head.’

‘I see.’ Draco quickly processed this information, his Slytherin brain firing up and slipping into gear. ‘So this boy Roland was _bullying_ James? Is that correct, Kasen?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Kasen replied, his back straightening. He would have looked smart and slightly regal if it hadn’t been for the blob of yellow paint on the tip of his nose. 

‘Has this happened before?’ Potter asked his son, kneeling beside him and pulling him a little closer.

James nodded. ‘Are we in trouble?’

‘No, you’re not,’ Potter said.

‘I will not have this level of squabbling at this centre, Mr Potter.’ 

‘And what exactly has James done?’

‘According to Roland, James provoked him.’

‘I didn’t!’ James cried.

Kasen backed him up. ‘He didn’t, Mrs Thomas. Roland is always picking on people. I won’t let him pick on _my_ friend.’ 

‘Mrs Thomas, while I don’t approve of my son’s actions, and he will be punished for them, I do understand why he chose to behave in this way. James and Kasen have become firm friends and it is admirable that they would wish to defend one another.’ 

Actually, Draco felt very proud. He felt like he’d done something good, that Kasen was on the right path and would not grow up bitter and unhappy, like Draco had.

Draco had loved his parents dearly; as he was sure they had loved him. They had given him everything his heart had desired. Almost. Sometimes, a child needed to be reminded he was loved – shown.

Draco had developed his own secret saying: a cuddle a day keeps the Dark Arts at bay. There would never be a day that Kasen would doubt how much Draco loved and cared for him above all other things.

They discussed the matter for a further five minutes whereupon Roland’s mother, Mrs Butter, arrived complete with a plastic sheet and rubber gloves. She was a timid woman, which Draco took full advantage of, and he guilt-tripped her into admitting that it was all Roland’s fault. 

‘Don’t you feel guilty at all?’ Potter said, leaning over the back seat to check James’s and Kasen’s seat belts were done up correctly.

‘Not as much as I probably should, I expect.’ 

Potter shut the back door and climbed into the front, starting up the car. ‘Me neither.’ 

‘Well, there was no harm done, was there? A little bit of washable poster paint was better than a broken nose and some missing teeth.’

Potter laughed. ‘I love the way your mind works.’

‘So do I,’ Draco said cheerfully. 

Draco was feeling far too relieved to feel guilty. James and Kasen were still friends. They hadn’t fallen out at all. They still had each other. Draco hadn’t realised how much he wanted Kasen to have someone special, a good friend, until James came along. It hadn’t seemed important before, but now it was like one more thing that ensured his happiness.

‘Where to?’ 

‘Excuse me?’ Draco asked, distracted by his thoughts.

‘Where to? I’ll drop you home.’

‘Oh. Erm.’ Damn, Draco hadn’t even considered this snag when he’d taken Potter up on his offer of a lift home. 

‘I can drop you at the bus stop,’ Potter said, ‘if you’d rather.’

Draco considered if he would rather. Did he want Potter to have his address? Was the chance of friendship worth the chance of discovery by the wizarding world? He listened the quiet giggling behind him; two children who’d had no part in any of the horror of the war. Draco wondered if he’d ever sounded that innocent, if he’d ever _been_ that innocent. 

He gave Potter his address and in return received a smile like Potter knew what he was thinking, like he knew the potential cost, like he understood that Draco had just opened a door and left it wide open. 

***** 

__

_Draco ran, his heart pounding harder than his feet on the rough, uneven pavement._

_Six months and they’d found him._

_And there was no-one to save him. No-one but himself._

_Icy wind blew his hood down over his back revealing dirty blond, unkempt hair._

_‘It’s him! It’s definitely him!’_

_‘Kill him! The Dark Lord will reward us handsomely for his body!’_

_Draco whirled around, his damp hair whipping into his face. He pointed his wand at the nearest moving shape and screamed, ‘ _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ ’_

_The dark mound dropped, smacking onto the floor with a wet squelch._

_‘ _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ ’_

_The second Death Eater dropped and Draco, breathing heavily and fighting hysteria, looked frantically around him for the third and final foe. There was no-one there. He tried to force himself to calm down, to breathe more quietly, to make less noise so he could hear. He backed up down the path, looking left, right, left, back, forward, left –_

_A noise!_

_Draco scraped the hair out his face and held his shaking wand aloft, pointing at nothing, but ready nonetheless. He felt tears threatening. His life could be cut short at any moment. Any moment. Any moment._

_Left, right, left, back, left, back, right, back._

_Any moment. Any moment. Any –_

_‘Boo!’ a deep and amused voice whispered, and then Draco was down, his head slamming hard against the pavement. He was flipped over onto his back and then Draco felt a dead weight pushing against him, hot, stale breath in his face, and when he opened his eyes he wasn’t surprised to see Fenir Greyback grinning down at him._

_‘I always wondered what the aristocracy tasted like.’_

_‘ _STUPIFY!_ ’_

_The weight left him and Draco staggered to his feet, his vision obscured by the blood in his eyes and the dizziness in his head. He walked backwards, shaking, and squinting at the figure in front of him. He wasn’t sure, but the half-cloaked face seemed familiar, safe, kind._

_‘Draco Malfoy?’_

_Remus Lupin, a member of the Order. The others would be near._

_Feeling like he should have been saved, like this should have been the moment someone held him and told him it was all going to be okay, Draco ran, leaving Remus’s voice and the crack of Apparating Order members far behind him._

__

***** 

Draco didn’t invite Potter in. He’d been tempted. What would have been the harm? But Draco wasn’t quite ready to fling himself all the way into a full-blown friendship with anyone, never mind the man who’d been his enemy for so long.

Kasen whinged when Potter and James had left, and then promptly and firmly refused to eat any lunch. Draco threw away the salad he’d made and let Kasen have a packet of Wotsits instead; it was something, at least. 

After “lunch” Draco went back to his garden to finish cutting back the lungwort. He cut off all the deadheads and trimmed back the foliage as far as it would go. 

Kasen sat down beside him. ‘Am I going to be punished?’ he asked.

Draco put down his secateurs and regarded his son carefully. Kasen was the mirror image of Draco at the same age, physically identical in every way. 

‘Are you sorry for what you did?’

Kasen seriously thought about it, his brow furrowing while he tried to make sense of what was in his head, processing, sorting. ‘No.’

‘Why?’ Draco asked.

‘Because I don’t like bullies.’

Draco’s heart clenched tightly. ‘I’m not going to punish you,’ he said.

Kasen beamed.

‘This time,’ Draco added with a pointy finger. ‘But perhaps you could find a way to stand up for James that doesn’t involve anything messy or James’s father and I being called in. They won’t put up with that sort of behaviour at school, you know. And the last thing you want is to start a rivalry this young.’

‘Okay. Can James come to tea soon?’

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled off his gardening gloves. His lecture had obviously gone in one ear and out the other. ‘We’ll see.’

Kasen fell back against the grass. ‘ _Please._ ’

‘We’ll see.’

‘That means no!’

‘No, it doesn’t. It means we’ll see.’ Draco smirked and stood up, collecting his tools.

‘Daddy, you’re so annoying!’

Draco laughed as he walked in the house. ‘You really don’t know just how annoying I can be.’ 

 

TBC…


	6. Chapter 6

*****

It was mid August and Draco woke up to find himself in a sweat. Eyes still shut tight against the sun streaming through the thin bedroom curtains, he groped at the bedside table until he located the buttons on the small desktop fan that had been whirring silently all night long. The fan picked up the pace and Draco sighed with relief and flopped onto his back. 

As per usual, his first coherent thought was of the state of his lawn. The hotter-than-usual summer heat was literally toasting his grass. Draco was surprised there hadn’t been a hosepipe ban in the Hampshire area yet. Those poor mugs down in Surrey had been without their hoses and carwashes for the last two weeks. 

Draco rolled out of bed and groggily stuffed his feet into his fluffy cream-coloured mules, a joke Christmas present from Edward and Doris Brumfitt, the owners of the local shop. Draco had laughed at the time but, actually, they were rather comfortable. 

Draco yawned, stretched and trudged out of his bedroom. He visited the bathroom first and then made a beeline for the garden. The air was pleasant outside and Draco took in a great gulp of it, blinking rapidly to wake himself up. Then, he turned on the outside tap and started up the sprinklers. He would be damned in hell for water wastage before he let his hollyhocks wilt.

Breakfast was a small affair: cereal, tea, orange juice and grumpy little boy who didn’t want to go to day care.

‘Are you ill?’ 

Kasen nodded pitifully. 

‘With what?’

‘Belly ache.’

‘Have you?’ Draco asked, touching his palm to Kasen’s forehead. ‘I bet you’ve got a headache too, haven’t you?’

Kasen nodded again, long exaggerated bobs of his head. ‘Hurts.’ 

Draco tried not to smile. ‘And what about your leg? Is that sore, too?’

‘ _Really_ sore.’

‘Oh dear. Perhaps you’ve got a bone in it.’

‘Yes, Daddy, a big one!’

‘Never mind, I’m sure it’ll go away soon.’

‘It won’t!’

‘It will. Go and get dressed, Kasen. I won’t have you being late.’

‘But I don’t feel well!’

Draco gave him The Look and Kasen stormed upstairs, making sure to connect with every step as hard as he could. 

The time was getting on and Draco needed to wash and dress himself. He scooped up the used crockery and stacked them neatly in the sink, placing the cutlery on top in an orderly fashion. 

He got halfway to the stairs before he was halted by a loud knock.

‘Potter,’ he said when he’d opened the door. He looked down. ‘James.’ He looked down even further – at the fluffy slippers he was still wearing. Damn. 

Potter looked at them too, but obviously chose the sensible option of not commenting.

‘Hey, sorry to be a pain, but I was wondering if you could take James to day care with Kasen. And pick him up. I wouldn’t ask, but something came up. I promise I won’t do it again. Just this once. I’d be so grateful …’

Draco shook his head and held up his hand. ‘Stop the grovelling, I can’t stand it. It’s fine. Leave him with me.’ 

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course. What time should I expect you back?’

‘Probably late.’

Draco ushered James into the house and pointed him in the direction of the television. ‘Is there something wrong?’ he asked when he returned to the door.

It certainly looked like something was wrong. Draco noted Potter’s shaking fingers. 

Potter’s voice dropped to a low whisper and he steadfastly refused to meet Draco’s curious gaze. ‘Remus died.’

Draco stood stunned for a moment, lost for what to say. He remembered Remus as kind man and a good man. Draco had run from him once, but only once. Remus Lupin was a man you could trust.

‘I … didn’t dislike him.’ 

Potter laughed. The sound was bitter. ‘Coming from you, that’s high praise indeed.’ 

Draco narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists. ‘I’m sorry I’m not _emotional_ enough for your tastes. I simply meant that he was just about the only person that didn’t look at me like I was the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. He left me alone. I respected him. I’m sorry he’s dead and I’m sorry you lost a friend. Better?’

‘You really are an arsehole.’

‘Granted. Anything else?’

Potter shook his head and seemed to hover for a moment, like he was conflicted. Finally, he turned and walked away. ‘I seriously doubt it.’

And just what did that mean? Potter wouldn’t ask for another favour? Ever?

Well, good. There was nothing worse than people that constantly begged for favours and for help. There was nothing worse than people that leaned on you and relied on you and _needed_ you when they had no-one else …

‘Potter. Wait!’ Draco jogged down the path to catch him up. ‘Harry, wait, I’m sorry.’ He stopped Potter with a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m a right bastard first thing in the morning. I inherited the grumpy gene from my mother so it’s not technically my fault.’ 

‘You called me Harry.’

‘Did I? Whoops.’

‘Sorry,’ Harry said. ‘I’m feeling a little …’

‘I believe the term you are looking for is ‘emo’,’ Draco said, making air-quotes with his fingers. ‘Seriously though, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I’m an insensitive twit. My ability to communicate with people used to be passable at best; now it’s a constant uphill struggle.’

Potter’s lips twitched, as though they wanted to smile but couldn’t quite make it. ‘You don’t have to be defensive with me. I didn’t understand all those years ago, but I do now. Oh, and Hermione has got those exact same slippers.’ 

Potter walked away and Draco was left wondering exactly what it was Potter understood and where Hermione got her slippers because he was having the most terrible time trying to find a spare pair. 

 

***** 

_He was there, just a few feet away. Saint Potter._

_Draco watched, crouched low, his palms on the dirty ground and his hooded head peeking around the corner of the building. His vision blurred and he swayed and clutched his stomach as hunger burned him._

_Saint Potter, who would save a match from its own flame._

_Draco watched cautiously, moving further back as Potter neared. He couldn’t go on. This was no life to lead. This was worse than death. No money, no roof, no food, no companionship. Just nothing._

_But maybe Potter would help him. Maybe Potter would take pity._

_Because pity was fine with Draco. He didn’t care about pride anymore, not when his hands only stopped shaking when he was asleep, and when all he wanted was a drink of water but he was too frightened to move for days at a time._

_What was the worst Potter could do? Hex him? Beat him up?_

_Turn him over to the Ministry? Draco gasped at that thought. He quickly slapped his hand over his mouth and slunk further back into the shadows. What if The Ministry tortured him for information?_

_What if they sent him to Azkaban? The Dark Lord would find him for sure. Oh, sweet Merlin, no, no, no, this was a bad idea, a ludicrous idea._

_Unsteadily, Draco stood, bracing himself with one hand against the wall. Potter must not find him._

_Draco ran. But his feet felt so heavy and his footsteps sounded like thunder in the silent desert. Each stormy step sent shock waves up Draco’s body and he screwed his eyes up against the pain of his protesting body._

_‘MALFOY!’_

_He heard his name clear enough through Potter’s voice, that irritating do-gooder tone that meant Potter was feeling righteous – as usual. Well, Draco wasn’t going to stop. Potter would have to Hex him good and proper, because he wasn’t going to stop, wasn’t going to give in, wasn’t going to –_

_The spell hit Draco square in the back and he fell. He didn’t feel the pain of the fall, only the hunger in his belly and the fear of The Dark Lord. His laboured breathing slowed even further and he tried to focus, tried to stay awake, as his face rested in a shallow puddle and a dark Potter-shaped shadow fell over him._

_He needed to stay conscious. He had to. He had something he desperately needed to say._

_Potter rolled him over and Draco stared at the reflection of the streetlamp in Potter’s glasses. ‘Kill me.’_

__

***** 

After James’s arrival, Kasen suddenly felt all better and Draco took them both to day care. James enjoyed his very first Muggle bus ride and Kasen delighted in pointing out all the Otterborne Highlights such as the wonky post box, the hedge shaped (unintentionally) like a penguin and the splendid example of ancient roadkill that was gradually getting flatter as the weeks passed by.

Draco did some shopping while the boys were at day care. He wandered around Winchester, picking up some essentials from Safeway and some non-essentials from The Brooks Centre including a CD from HMV and a pair of smart dress trousers from Cadogan, a clothes shop which specialised in ‘dressy and unusual’ mens and ladies wear. He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the need to buy something so extravagant when he had nowhere to go, but then again, the brain of Draco Malfoy was beyond its own brilliance so why argue? 

The time went quickly and before Draco knew it, he had shopped a little more and was then picking up the children and forcing Kasen and James to carry a potted orchid each, something else that had taken his fancy.

‘When is Daddy coming back?’ 

Draco slipped the key into the lock, turned it, and pushed the door open with his shoulder. ‘Soon, I expect.’

‘Can James stay for tea?’ Kasen asked.

‘Of course.’ He looked back at James and was alarmed to see his face so pale, his little fingers fidgeting against the flowerpot he was holding. ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ he told James, taking the pot from him and placing it carefully on the table. He squatted down to James’s height and took hold of his shoulders. ‘Do you like water, getting wet?’ 

James nodded and from behind them Kasen gasped and dropped his orchid. ‘Can we play in the sprinklers?!’

Draco rolled his eyes and retrieved the fallen orchid, petting its pot as though that would comfort it. ‘You may. Find James some trunks, please.’ Kasen raced up the stairs soon followed by James. ‘And be careful. No pushing each other!’

Draco drifted for the rest of the day, torn between wanting to get on and do things, watching the children play at jumping through the sprinklers and thinking about Harry Potter. Eventually, he settled on reclining on a sun lounger under the shade of a plum tree, a book in hand and the children in clear view. He watched them play more than he read his book and so eventually gave up on that and just watched from behind his Armani sunglasses. 

At some point he dropped off, and was woken by two insistent prods in his side and a declaration of hunger. Claiming that he hadn’t, in fact, gone to sleep, Draco grumbled and dragged himself back into the house to start tea.

It was seven o’clock and both children were yawning when Draco next looked at the clock. Potter still wasn’t back. Draco didn’t mind. He liked James. He was a sweet boy, not at all like his father, and it was wonderful to see Kasen having such fun, even if Draco did feel a little left out. 

Draco debated what to do about the boys’ bedtime and eventually decided that he should put them both to bed now. If James was anything like Kasen then he’d barely bat an eyelid when Potter carried him home later. He put James in a pair of Kasen’s pyjamas, the green ones with the silver trim, and let them both take his bed. 

By eight o’clock, insistent clouds floated overhead and the colour of the sky dimmed to a tired whitish grey. There was still no sign of Potter. Draco decided not to worry and instead made himself a cup of tea and turned on the television. There was a film starting on one of the movie channels, Gosford Park, which looked quite good so Draco retrieved a bag of nuts from the kitchen and settled down to watch. 

When the knock at the door eventually came, Draco jolted awake to find he’d long ago missed the end of the film. 

‘Potter,’ he greeted once he’d smoothed down his flyaway hair and flung open the door. ‘Is everything alright?’

‘I thought it was Harry now.’

‘What?’

‘Harry. Instead of Potter. You called me Harry earlier. I like it better.’

Draco nodded and stepped aside, carefully watching _Harry’s_ empty expression. It would probably be hard for a stranger to tell that something was wrong, but Draco had known Harry Potter for a long time and there was something missing, something … zesty. 

No, not zesty. That was a stupid word to think. 

Potter was usually more animated, more vibrant. This version was so still.

‘Would you like some tea?’ Draco asked. ‘I’ve got some Assam. I could make it strong. James is asleep, by the way, in my bed, with Kasen. He’s had a good day. They’ve been splashing about in the sprinklers.’

That made Harry smile. He sat down on the sofa and stared over at one of the new orchids. ‘Did he ask about Remus?’

‘No.’

‘Oh.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t read good or bad into that. I don’t suppose he understands about … I’ll make the tea.’

Draco made sure to clank about the kitchen as much as possible to cover up the awful quiet. He liked the quiet, but he was used to the sort that came because there was no one else there to make any noise. 

He poked his head back into the living room and told Potter – no, told Harry – to help himself to the TV remote. He also asked if Harry had eaten and promptly made him a cheese and tomato sandwich and put together a small plate of biscuits to accompany the tea.

‘What happened?’ Draco asked, handing Harry a mug that said World’s Greatest Dad on the side.

‘It was just his time.’

‘Surely not. He can’t have been that old.’

Harry shrugged. ‘It was his condition. It puts such a strain on the body, on the heart specifically. Last night it just … gave out. Game over.’

‘I didn’t realise. Is a short life expectancy something that affects all werewolves?’

‘I’ve always assumed so. I haven’t known that many werewolves. Don’t you remember him from school, the way he always looked so ill, so grey around the edges.’

‘I remember him being a scruffbag. And he was just as bad, or worse, at Headquarters.’ Draco paused for thought. ‘Oh. That was his condition? I always assumed he was just very shabby. Trampish.’

‘You would,’ Harry said, not entirely unkindly. ‘No, he was just ill, I guess. Doesn’t matter now.’

Draco picked up a Rich Tea biscuit and dunked it. ‘You were still close?’

‘Sort of. Yeah.’

When nothing else was forthcoming Draco asked, ‘How are the others taking it?’

‘Everyone’s really shaken up. I mean, we knew this was coming, we just didn’t expect it to be … now.’

‘Always tomorrow,” Draco said.

Harry nodded again. ‘Never today.’

‘I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I suppose you could say I know a little something about loss.’

They stared at each other then, Draco daring Harry with a look to tell him that his loss was worth less because Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were the enemy, were _evil_.

‘I know you do. I’m sorry about that, too. I really am.’ Harry downed his tea and got up. ‘I’m going to get James. Thanks for looking after him today. If there’s ever a time I can return the favour, just ask.’

‘It was really no trouble. He’s a good boy.’

Harry smiled his thanks and followed Draco up the stairs to his room where he carefully lifted James into his arms. Kasen only stirred slightly and when Draco returned alone twenty minutes later, he stirred again and wrapped his fingers around Draco’s hair where it lay on the pillow.

It was a long time before Draco was able to nod off, his thoughts dominated by a sickly feeling and a desire to do something he’d never had the nerve to do before. The past was exactly that and so what was the point in harping on about it? If Draco could make peace with Harry Potter of all people, then there was someone else that deserved the same courtesy.

 

TBC …


	7. Chapter 7

*****  
 __

_He opened his eyes to filth. A cobwebbed ceiling, yellow and gold aged wood skirting and bedcovers that smelled like mould and wetness. He brushed his hand across the lumpy pillow and found that it was dry._

_‘Good evening, Draco.’_

_Startled by recognition, Draco abruptly sat up and scooted back against the wall, eyes wide, feverishly searching the room for the face to go with the voice._

_How had they found him? How could this be? Damn that Potter; the bastard had actually turned him over, flung him back to where he deserved to be, back into the clutches of the Death Eaters._

_‘Do not be alarmed,’ said Severus Snape._

__

****** 

The funeral of Remus Lupin came and went. Harry didn’t say much about it and Draco didn’t ask. Draco looked after James three more times during the three weeks that passed and that included during the funeral itself. It was no place for a child, Harry had said, and Draco wholeheartedly agreed. In fact, it was no place for anyone. 

As August began drawing to a close and the sky turned from a bedazzling blue to grumpy grey, Draco thought more and more about what he wanted to do, about what he needed to do and what he needed to say. He wasn’t a child anymore. He was a man with a man’s understanding of the world. He still kept a tight grip on his biased tendencies but he now possessed a power that he’d never had before: Reason; now he could listen to reason.

So on the 29th of August, directly after day care was over and a split second before he stepped into Harry Potter’s car for the short journey home, he asked for a return of the favours he’d been gracing Potter with.

‘Sure, no problem. When can we expect you back?’

‘I’m not sure. I might be straight back. Or I might be a few hours. Kasen won’t be any trouble, I can assure you. He knows better than that.’ 

Harry asked him if he wanted a lift, but Draco declined. Driving to his destination would be nothing short of ridiculous. They parted ways a few minutes later. Kasen was content enough to stay with Harry and James, especially as Harry had promised to “cook” chips if Kasen was still there at tea time. Draco resolved to be back before that happened.

After much waving, mostly by Kasen and James, Harry drove away and Draco took in a deep steadying breath. He hoped he could still do this after so long. Besides which, it was a long way to go.

Draco closed his eyes, prayed to Merlin he wasn’t about to splinch himself, and Disapparated. 

When he opened his eyes again he found himself standing in one piece in front of a very surprised tramp in Spinners End. 

‘Wha—?’

‘You’re delusional,’ Draco said. ‘It must be the cheap beer. I suggest you find a convenient bench on which to sleep it off.’ 

Still looking rather surprised and with his mouth gaping wide enough to show his tonsils, the man nodded and staggered away.

The house wasn’t hard to find. Draco had been here twice before, but on both occasions he’d lost his nerve and turned away. But not this time. Draco marched up to the door and banged three times. He kept his eyes fixed forward, staring at the tarnished knocker hanging by only one loose screw. The curtains twitched but Draco paid them no attention. 

He knocked again, no harder, no softer, and the door wrenched open before his knuckles connected for the third time.

‘Hello, sir. Severus.’ Draco waited while the obvious shock of seeing him settled and then fell from Severus’ face. Or perhaps it was the shock of just seeing _someone_ on his door step. 

‘I hope I’m not intruding. I would have warned you of my arrival, but, well, I didn’t even really know myself until just now. I thought it was time. For us to talk. For you to explain yourself. And for me to explain myself. If you still want to. I understand if –’

‘You’d better come in.’ It was said quietly and without any trace of emotion, but it was enough to snap Draco’s jaw shut tight. 

He followed Severus into the hall and closed the door behind them. It was a dark place, as Draco had always expected it would be. It was shabby and desperately needed re-decoration. Actually, it desperately needed gutting. Draco dreaded to think what the garden looked like. 

Severus led them into the main room and gestured to a ratty brown sofa. Draco sat and observed that while the house was obviously in a state of total disrepair, it was clean. 

A glass of pumpkin juice appeared in front of him and Draco realised his thoughts had wondered somewhat.

‘Not exactly what you’re used to, I expect,” Severus said. If there was a bitter note to his voice, Draco couldn’t detect it.

‘Not quite. Splash of paint and it would come up lovely, I’m sure.’

‘I’m sure.’

Draco picked up his glass and sipped at the drink. What he needed to say, it had built up so much over the years that it now felt monumental, like he needed to build up to it a little more. ‘Are you in touch with anyone?’ he asked.

‘Anyone?’

‘From The Ministry, Hogwarts … anyone.’

‘You’re asking if I’m contact with any other wizards?’

Irritated, Draco put down his glass. Severus Snape always could read him like a book, and right now he’d read that Draco wasn’t at all interested in who Severus took tea with. ‘Fine. I want to make sure that you don’t discuss my presence with anyone.’

Severus bowed his head and another wave of annoyance shot through Draco. 

‘You have my word. I will not tell anyone I’ve seen you, as I have never told anyone where you live.’

‘Good. _What?!_ ’

Severus smirked. ‘I’ve known for a very long time. You have a lovely house, from what I’ve seen of it.’

‘Have you been spying on me? How dare you!’ Draco stood, enraged by this new information. 

‘Call it what you will, Draco.’

Draco pressed his lips together tightly, willing his mouth not to spill the things that were rattling around his brain, awful things, spiteful things. He stared at Severus, glaring hard and waiting for a further explanation, praying for one because Draco felt so tired and so sick of hating.

‘Sit down, Draco. Please.’

He slowly sat. 

‘I found out your location a year after _The Prophet_ reported your absence. I was … concerned.’

‘You were?’

‘I was.’

‘Why?’

‘For the same reason as always.’

‘Because you promised my mother.’

‘No, because I’ve known you most of your life, I care about you. As I always have done.’

‘Well, I appreciate you uncharacteristic honestly,’ Draco said. Severus couldn’t have said he cared before, couldn’t have reassured? Couldn’t have made it plainly obvious? 

Couldn’t have cared enough to save him?

‘I understand your feelings towards me,’ Severus said. He turned his head away and gazed at a ceramic horse on the mantle. ‘I – ’

‘Why didn’t you help me?’ Draco interrupted. ‘My mother, she was your friend, yet you couldn’t find it in your heart to help her.’

‘I helped her once, I couldn’t help her again.’

‘You could have.’

‘It was too risky.’

‘Too risky for who, you? For the Order of the Phoenix? For some stupid cause you didn’t even believe in?’

Severus looked back at him. ‘That cause saved your life. May I suggest you remember that.’

‘And may I suggest you get your facts straight. Harry Potter saved my life, not the Order, not you, not the Weasels. _Harry Potter_.’ Severus flinched at the name. ‘None of them wanted me at Headquarters. None of them cared. None of them trusted me.’

‘You can hardly blame them.’

‘No, I suppose not. After all, I was only there because I was on my last legs, half-dead because I had _no-one_ to turn to. It’s not like anyone offered me the chance to _choose_ the right side. No-one _asked_ me if I was happy to kill an old man. NOBODY GAVE ME A WAY OUT! _YOU SHOULD HAVE GIVEN ME A WAY OUT!_ ’ Draco was on his feet again. His body shook and it took every ounce of strength he had to stop the tears from falling. ‘Why didn’t you help us, Severus?’ 

Severus stood and moved around the coffee table that separated them. ‘I wish I had.’ 

****** 

_‘Did he torture her?’_

_‘No. I’m truly sorry.’_

_‘Don’t be sorry. Just bring her back.’_

_‘I can’t, Draco. She’s gone.’_

_‘Then bring her body back.’_

_‘I can’t.’_

_‘Can’t what? Help the people who were loyal to you, who gave you friendship despite your dubious blood status?’_

_‘You have every right to be angry.’_

_‘I have every right to be murderous. Watch your back, Severus Snape. When my father gets out of Azkaban he’ll _kill_ you.’_

_‘I’ll let you rest. Eat. You need your strength.’_

_‘Fuck off. Sir.’_

****** 

Draco watched Severus approach, the man he’d known for most of his life, the man that had once promised Draco’s father that he would always look after his family. ‘You watched her die, didn’t you? I could tell. I could tell when you told me.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I don’t want you to be sorry. Sorry won’t bring her back.’

‘I wish everyday that I done things differently.’

‘I was so angry. I think I still am. Furious, in fact.’

Severus rested his hands on Draco’s shoulders and Draco closed his eyes at the contact. 

‘Furious with myself.’

The hands on his shoulders tightened.

‘That shouldn’t be so.’

‘But it is so. I should have been stronger. I should have taken my mother aside and told her I wasn’t going to carry out The Dark Lord’s orders. Then I would never have failed and she would never have sent me away. It’s my fault she’s dead.’

‘No. There is only one person to blame.’

‘If she hadn’t died then maybe my father wouldn’t have either.’

‘Your father had a heart attack.’

‘My father died of a broken heart.’ And Draco truly believed that. He’d been allowed to visit his father only once after The Dark Lord’s fall, to tell him of his wife’s death. Draco would have traded his own life just to spend five minutes in his father’s arms, to hold him, to be held, to somehow feel that all was not lost, that there was hope out there somewhere. Watching his father break in half had been the worse thing he’d ever experienced. ‘I miss them so much.’ 

Severus’s arms pulled him into a tight embrace. Draco resisted for only a moment, only until he felt the warmth and strength of Severus’s body and it stirred a great need: someone to hold on to.

 

*****

Unsettled, and with no more answers that he’d Disapparated with, Draco Apparated outside Harry Potter’s house. He judged it badly and appeared with a great _crack!_ in the midst of an unruly bramble. 

‘Wow, you’re noisier than Fred and George put together,’ Harry said when he’d wandered outside, a magazine still in hand and a curiously amused expression on his face. He offered an arm to help Draco out of his predicament.

‘Yes, sorry about that. I was a mite distracted. Really, Harry, your front garden is in serious need of weeding.’

Harry ignored that latter comment. ‘Is everything alright?’

‘Yes. No. Well, sort of. Not really.’

Harry nodded, impressed. ‘Thorough answer, all angles covered. Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. How is my son?’

‘Actually I wanted to talk to you about that.’

Draco’s heart sped up and his knees felt like they’d been Transfigured into something wobbly, possibly a jelly or maybe even those springy, feathery things you sometimes got on top of pencils. Draco assumed he must have broadcast his alarm loud and clear because Harry clutched his arm again.

‘No, no, nothing bad. He’s absolutely fine. Sorry.’

Draco relaxed and peeled a stray bramble from his trousers. ‘I can do tortuous things with my bare hands, you know.’

Harry let go of Draco’s arm and blushed, and for a horrible moment Draco thought he was going to say something in return of his outrageously stupid and probably unintentional double entendre.

‘What did you want to say about Kasen?’ Draco asked quickly.

Harry seized the question. ‘Do you know how smart he is?’

‘Of course,’ Draco said, mildly offended by any assumption that he didn’t know how wonderful and brilliant his own child was. ‘He’s highly intelligent.’

‘Yes, but I mean _really_ smart, scarily so.’

‘I beg your pardon.’

‘He’s been teaching James his nine times table, said it was best to start with the hardest and work backwards. Draco, he knows _all_ his times tables, every one of them. He can real them off like he’s reading out a shopping list.’

Draco was still a bit confused. ‘I don’t understand. How is that scary?’

‘Because he’s four. He’s not supposed to know that stuff yet. Did you know your times table at four years-old?’

‘Of course! Didn’t you?’

‘No!’

‘Oh. Well, perhaps you’re a bit slow.’

‘Thank you very much.’

‘You’re welcome.’ 

Harry went on to explain that it wasn’t considered normal for a child of four to know the square root of forty five off the top of his head. Draco had to eventually concede. He sat down on Harry’s front step, depressed.

‘I didn’t want him to be some sort of genius.’

‘I think that’s going a bit far,’ Harry said, sitting down next to him. 

‘My father pushed me very hard when I was a child. He wanted me to be the best I could be. I want the same for Kasen and I’ll admit that I’ve tried to teach him whatever I think he can handle. But, I don’t want to push him like my father did to me. I know he only intended –’Draco stopped there and covered his face with his hands.

‘Hey, don’t. Come on, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

Draco felt Harry’s warm palm against his shoulder, light and hesitant. It undid him.

‘Draco? Draco, please don’t … Are you _laughing?_ ’

Draco nodded from behind his hands and when he spoke his voice was muffled and wheezy. ‘I do believe I’m having a hysterical reaction. Oh Harry, I’ve had a shit of a day.’

Through the obvious confusion spread all over Harry’s face, Draco also saw a sliver of something else. It was probably that pity thing again. But the hand still remained on his shoulder and the thumb was tracing little circles.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Harry asked.

‘Do you want to listen?’

‘I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.’

Draco wiped hysterical tears of mirth from his eyes. ‘Where are the boys?’

‘Building sandcastles.’ Harry didn’t elaborate. ‘Come on, I’ll stick the kettle on.’

Harry Potter made a nice cup of tea, Draco had to give him that. He wrapped both hands around his mug and enjoyed the way it burned his palms. With only a small amount of prompting, Draco told Harry about his visit to Severus.

‘Did it help?’ Harry asked.

‘Yes and no. He didn’t give me any answers that I wanted, I suspect because he can’t, because the answers I seek just aren’t there.’

‘What answers were you looking for?’

‘Oh I don’t know, maybe why he’d been in the Order all that time and yet he never extended the invitation to me or to my family.’

‘Probably because he couldn’t trust you. And I think he was right, Draco. You would have turned him over to Voldemort.’

Draco stared down into his cup and observed his own deep brown reflection. His nose looked wonky as it rippled amongst the tea. ‘That’s not the answer I was looking for.’

‘Which is why you’ll never find it.’

‘I know. But I can’t help the resentment I feel. I can’t help but feel he should have done more. He should have stopped me.’

‘From trying to kill Dumbledore? But then what? What would Voldemort have done to you and your family _and_ Snape? Snape was damn good at Occlumancy, but do you really think you could have held out? Or do you think you would have given him away?’

‘You’re defending him?’

‘ _No,_ God, no. Not defending, and certainly not justifying. Just trying to give you _something._ ’

Draco nodded and put down his mug. ‘What should I do about Kasen?’ he asked.

‘Uh, nothing. He’s four, you don’t have to do anything right now. Besides, that’s what school is for, right? Just keep an eye on him.’

‘Oh, my Merlin, I can’t believe it’s less than two weeks away. Our little angels going to school.’

‘Tell me about it. I haven’t even got bought James’s uniform. Time just gets away with you, doesn’t it?’

It was a good job Draco had put his mug down on the coffee table because he surely would have dropped it. ‘You haven’t …?’

Harry shook his head and looked suitably embarrassed. 

‘This is unacceptable, Potter. I mean, Harry. How did this happen?’ Draco held up his hand. ‘No, don’t tell me. It’s the stupid gene again, isn’t it?’

Harry wasn’t permitted to respond to that. Instead he was abruptly instructed to gather the children and prepare to shop like his life depended on it. 

They arrived at Marks & Spencer just an hour before it was due to close and Draco took point and lead his team of belated shoppers to the school section where he proceeded to choose one of everything with lightning speed and precision. He sent Harry and James to the fitting room.

‘Daddy, can I have a pencil case?’ Kasen asked, tugging at Draco’s sleeve. Draco suspected Kasen didn’t actually want a pencil case as he already had three at home. He couched down to Kasen’s level.

‘How are you, Kasen? Did you have a nice time with James and Harry? I’m sorry I left you today. Can you forgive me?’

‘James has got a sandpit,’ Kasen said in answer.

Draco looked down at Kasen’s grubby trousers. ‘So I see.’

‘That was easy,’ Harry said twenty minutes later. 

Draco and the boys helped Harry carry everything to the car, including twenty five pounds worth of brightly coloured stationery Draco had picked out to ‘encourage’ James to have fun with his school work. _‘Nothing says fun more than fluorescent pink Post-Its.’_ Harry still looked dubious. 

‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ Harry asked when he’d pulled to a stop outside Draco’s house.

‘Wallowing, probably. Why?’

‘I thought maybe you’d like to have lunch. Both of you, of course. To say thank you.’

‘What for, helping you buy a few school things?’

‘Yes, that and for, you know, stuff.’

‘Stuff.’ Draco repeated. 

‘Yeah, you’ve been brilliant. I never expected it. You’ve done so much for us. What do you say? If you’re not doing anything. I was thinking maybe The Harvester.’

Draco played it cool. Harry never had to know how much he coveted The Harvester and its salad cart. ‘I suppose that place has its charms,’ he said as he opened the passenger door. ‘Very well, I accept. Thank you.’

‘ _Daddy!_ The pencil case wants to go inside now,’ Kasen said, waggling it in the air. 

Harry laughed and Draco sighed playfully and dramatically. ‘My child genius,’ he said, climbing out of the car.

He un-strapped Kasen from the back seat and together they said goodbye. Once inside, Kasen indulged in a mad scramble to find his felt-tip pens so that he could stuff out his brand new, fluffy, doggie pencil case. Draco busied himself making a tuna bake for dinner and as he worked, his thoughts drifted back to Severus.

Was there anyway he could understand why Severus had acted the way he did? Could he even begin to see why a man betrayed his friends for a bunch of people he claimed to hate?

Yet when he’d looked into Severus’s eyes today, felt his arms around him, he’d seen and felt his regrets. Severus was just as alone as he was – had been – and just maybe he deserved another chance at some happiness too. Sometimes the only thing left was to forgive.

‘Where did you go today, Daddy?’

Draco looked over his shoulder at his son. ‘I went to see a friend.’

 

TBC …


	8. Chapter 8

Draco gazed at himself in the bathroom mirror and tapped his fingers on the sides of the sink. Yes, he looked positively stunning, but something was still missing, something …

‘Here you go, Daddy.’ Kasen held up a long black velvet ribbon.

‘Are you sure? I haven’t worn my hair back in a long time.’

‘It looks nice.’

Draco smiled down at his son. ‘Then I shall tie it up just for you.’

‘Want me to do it for you, Daddy?’

It was a resounding no, and Draco sent his son to pick out a small toy to take with him while Draco gathered his own long hair back and tied it in a lose ponytail. The black ribbon hung in a loose bow.

It was only lunch with Harry and James at The Harvester, yet Draco had an intense feeling of nerves. He had fussed all morning, deciding what clothes to put on and what scents to splash against his skin. It was all decidedly odd and Draco couldn’t for the life of him work out why he was feeling this way.

He had even put on his new fancy trousers. With an even newer fancy shirt. And as for the boots? They had arrived that very morning, a bargain from the Next Directory. 

Harry’s car pulled up outside at precisely twelve o’clock. The horn beeped to signal its arrival.

Impressed at Harry’s suddenly miraculous timekeeping, Draco nodded to himself and held his hand out to Kasen. ‘Time to go.’

Harry didn’t look half bad himself, Draco noted as he got in the front seat and buckled up his seatbelt. A purple and white stripy rugby shirt that looked brand new and a pair of light blue jeans that looked so soft they begged to be touched. 

‘Morning,’ Harry said as he put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb.

‘Afternoon,’ Draco corrected. 

‘How … uh … are you?’ Harry said, looking at him once, twice and then swerving to avoid a leaf in the road. ‘Shit.’ 

‘I’m very well. Thank you for asking.’ Draco folded his hands in his lap and felt very pleased with himself. Just as he suspected, stunning. 

*****

The Harvester was a large family restaurant on the outskirts of Otterbourne. They catered for all ages, were reasonably priced, and had the best salad cart in the South of England. The pasta was perfect, the potato salad was heavenly, and the wholemeal rolls were worth a night in a prison cell. 

The four of them were led to a table at the back, slap bang next to a window overlooking a hilly and beautiful landscape. The view was only slightly spoiled by the ominous grey clouds looming in the distance. 

James and Kasen wanted to sit together, which would probably lead to trouble, but as it was a special occasion Draco allowed it. 

‘Special occasion?’ Harry asked.

‘Their last weekend before school,’ Draco explained.

They all went to the salad cart together and came back with plates piled high, as was tradition. Kasen made four covert extra trips, under Draco’s watchful eye, and each time came back with a wholemeal roll for his father. Draco put them in his messenger bag. 

 

When rain began to spot the ground outside, they were on their main course. Weirdly, they all wanted the same thing and so the waitress brought them all Chicken & Bacon Stacks which consisted of bacon and chicken stakes wedged together with Emmental cheese and plum sauce. 

Harry cut up the children’s chicken and bacon steaks before they all began.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Harry said.

‘Of course.’ Draco’s fork was speared through a piece of bacon, cheese, chicken, potato, and two stray peas. He stuffed the whole caboodle into his mouth.

Harry kept his voice low. ‘How much do you use magic?’

‘Very little,’ Draco said once he’d swallowed. ‘The odd necessary thing here and there. A little for entertainment, and to show Kasen where he came from.’

Harry nodded. ‘Are you using magic now?’

‘No. What would make you think that?’

Harry hesitated. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, because you look great, I mean, fine, erm, okay. Uh, but you in no way look like any sort of Muggle I’ve ever seen. The high collar and the long jacket, the tight trousers and the shiny boots … Why aren’t people staring?’

Draco tipped back his head and laughed, momentarily startling the children. They blinked at him and then went back to talking about spaceships. 

‘Harry, we’re in the middle of the English Countryside. Did you see any of the houses we passed? Big. Lots of money. Some very old families. Eccentricity is rife in these parts. I fit in perfectly. And besides, Muggles see only what they want to see.’

‘True,’ Harry conceded. ‘There’s a lady down our road that takes her toy panda for a walk every morning.’ 

‘Oh yes, Mrs Tyrell. She’s not eccentric, she’s mad. As a hatter. And her panda’s name is Cyril.’

‘Really? That’s weird.’

‘That it is. Now, I’m not saying that I’m completely sane, but I haven’t yet taken one of Kasen’s toys for a spot of exercise.’

Harry laughed and called the waitress over for another round of cokes. ‘You are much more eccentric than I remember, though,’ Harry said when she’d gone.

Draco shrugged happily. ‘It’s true, I’m afraid. I grow gayer and more eccentric by the day.’

Harry choked on a baby new potato. 

 

*****

_  
The hallways were narrow, too narrow, and Draco felt like they were crushing him, gradually compressing him until there was nothing left._

_‘I’m surprised you haven’t turned me over to the Ministry yet.’_

_‘I’ve thought about it,’ Potter said._

_‘And?’_

_‘I don’t think you’d be safe. Voldemort is likely to take control any day.’_

_‘So what!?’ Draco spat. ‘It’s not like you give a shit about me? Why don’t you just turn me over and be done with it?’_

_Potter was quiet. He looked over his shoulder and then over Draco’s. ‘Because I don’t think you wanted to kill Dumbledore. I think you were forced into it. I want to help you.’_

_Draco believed it, for all of ten seconds. He fisted his hands in Potter’s jumper and pinned him against the wall. ‘ _Why am I here?!_ ’_

_Potter pushed him away, violently slamming his palms into Draco’s chest. ‘Get out of my face!’_

_‘Then tell me!’_

_‘Have you got a death wish or something?’_

_Draco leaned back on the opposite wall and rested his head against it. He laughed. ‘Let’s see, shall we? What do you want?’_

_Draco rolled his head and examined the gold-tinted ceiling while he waited to Potter to gather his own balls and tell the truth._

_‘I want you to fight.’_

_‘I beg your pardon?’_

_‘Fight. With me. I want you to fight Voldemort with me.’_

_‘You’re bloody mad! Why in Merlin’s name would I do such a stupid thing?’_

_‘You’ll do it because your father is in Azkaban and it’s only a matter of time before Voldemort comes for him, his chief failed Death Eater. I wonder what punishment he’ll suffer?’_

_‘Stop it.’ Draco calculated the possibility of strangling Harry Potter right there on the spot. Potter didn’t have his wand out and Draco was bigger, taller, stronger. He could kill him right now._

_‘And you’ll do it because of the prophecy your father was trying to steal. You’ll do it because I’m going to win.’_

_That got Draco’s full attention. ‘I thought that twit, Longbottom, smashed it. No one heard it. You’re lying.’_

_Potter kept eye contact and shook his head. ‘I’m not lying.’_

__

*****

‘Back to the magic thing again,’ Harry said later when pudding was being consumed like there was no tomorrow. ‘Does Kasen ever use it?’

‘No. At least not deliberately. He has the odd accident here and there, but generally he’s a got a good hold of it.’

Harry nodded. ‘Yeah, I had my fair share of mishaps when I was younger. I set a python on my cousin once.’

‘Really?’ Draco asked. ‘Did he deserve it?’

‘Definitely. And you? What was your worst accident?’

‘Hmm, let me think, I had quite a few. My father let me borrow my mother’s wand whenever she wasn’t looking. He taught me quite a few spells a long time before I attended Hogwarts.’

‘Was that allowed?’

‘ _No,_ definitely not, but since when did the rules stop my father?’

‘Good point.’

‘Worst accident was probably when I blasted the wall off the west wing.’

‘Blood hell.’

‘Yes, quite. It took him weeks to fix it. He was incredibly torn between wanting to praise me for my magic and wanting to slap the back of my legs for costing him so much money. He was proud, though. But not my mother, she was furious.’

‘I bet.’

‘Not with me, with him. My mother didn’t often get angry, but that day I genuinely thought she was going to sprout fangs and kill my father.’ Draco smiled at the memory, not because it was a particularly good one, but because it was a vivid one, both his parents crystal clear in his head. That didn’t happen often. Time was a good healer, it was true, but it was also very good at erasing precious memories. 

‘It feels good to talk about them,’ Draco said.

They left the restaurant half an hour later and drove back to Draco’s house. Harry had paid for the meal and Draco was determined to pay him back with tea.

The rain had stopped and the clouds had moved on, opening up a sunny window of opportunity. Kasen and James took full advantage and went outside to play a weirdly one-sided game of “It”.

While Draco and Harry were seated comfortably on the sofa, mugs of tea in hand, Harry blurted something that obviously been on his mind. 

‘Where’s Kasen’s mother?’

Draco put down his mug and fixed Harry with a dangerous stare. ‘That is a rather impertinent question, don’t you think?’

‘Yes. I know it’s rude and it’s none of my business, but … I want to know.’

Draco’s back straightened and his chin lifted. ‘Why?’

‘Aside from the major curiosity? I don’t know, maybe I just want to get to know you better.’

‘You do know me better.’

‘I’m aware of that,’ Harry said, impatience creeping into his voice. ‘But maybe I want to know even more.’

‘Maybe? Surely you know if you want to know more nor not. There’s no in-between. You do or don’t. Which is it?’

‘Look, you don’t have to get all defensive, okay? I’m just asking.’

‘You’re _just_ asking things that I don’t want to tell you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s my business, Potter!’

‘I though we were friends, Draco. I thought you trusted me.’ Harry looked vaguely hurt and it gave Draco a satisfying jolt of perverse pleasure. 

‘I. Don’t. Trust. Anyone.’

‘We’re friends!’

‘Don’t kid yourself. I’m not your friend and I never will be.’ 

Harry nodded to himself, his lips pressing together and his hands clenching in his lap. ‘I see. So what is all this?’ he asked, unclenching one hand gesturing between them. ‘Your sick idea of a joke? Let’s pretend to like Potter because – because – because … fuck, I don’t know why! Why would you do that?!’

Draco was horrified. ‘I wouldn’t! It’s you who’s playing the cruel joke! You’ve lured me in, ensnared me in your web of lies, and behind my back you’re mocking me to your real friends, laughing at the poor outcast who’s got no-one! And now you’re trying to take Kasen away from me— ’

‘What?!’

‘You’re trying to take him away! You’re trying to prove something! Well, I’ll tell you this, you poor excuse for a donkey’s cock, it’s not going to happen!’ Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry’s chest. ‘Get your filthy brat and get out of my house.’ 

‘No,’ Harry said. ‘No, I won’t.’

‘You can’t have him.’ Draco was close to tears. An irrational bubble of hate and paranoia had burst inside him. Kasen was all he had, and if Potter found a way to take him, then there would be nothing left, nothing at all. ‘He’s mine.’

Harry held up his hands. ‘Draco, please calm down and lower your wand. Think of the children. You don’t want them hurt, do you?’

Draco looked at him like he was crazy. ‘Are you patronising me or are you really that stupid? I’m aiming for you. I won’t miss.’

‘Okay fine, but the last thing you want is for Kasen see you pointing your wand at his best friend’s father.’

Potter had a point, damn him. Draco lowered his wand but kept his distance. 

‘I’m not trying to take Kasen,’ Harry continued. ‘And I’m not going to tell anyone about you or your home or anything like that, I promise. Please believe that.’

‘I don’t understand what you want from me. You don’t even like me.’ Draco looked away.

‘I do like you. A lot. More than a lot.’

Draco frowned and had a funny thought. ‘Do you fancy me?’ he asked. 

When Harry turned as red as the top of a traffic light, Draco knew it was true. He laughed. ‘You do!’

‘Thanks a lot, Malfoy. Thanks,’ Harry said, utterly offended.

‘That’s Malfoy sweetheart to you.’

‘Fuck you.’

Draco was still laughing. ‘You hope.’

‘Right, that’s it, I’ve had enough, I’m leaving.’ Harry started striding across the living room, heading towards the back garden to find James. ‘You are a complete nutter.’

‘No, wait, I’m sorry! Harry, please.’ Draco snagged Harry’s t-shirt. He turned him around and tried to look suitably guilty. The problem wasn’t that Harry liked him.

‘Don’t, Draco. Don’t insult my intelligence. You don’t like me, fine, but— ’

‘I do like you, Harry.’

‘Then why are you laughing at me?’

‘I’m not. I’m laughing at myself. I’m an idiot. I thought … Well, we’ve been getting on so well and the thought that … that it might not be real, it hurt. But you want to know more about me because you like me, not because you want to destroy me.’

‘Destroy you?’ Harry shook his head. ‘You are such a drama queen.’

Draco nodded. ‘This, I am aware of.’

‘What’s a drama queen?’ 

Both Harry and Draco looked down at the voice. James. 

Harry answered him. ‘It’s what we call Draco when he’s being all dramatic.

‘What’s dramtic?’ 

Harry didn’t have to answer. Kasen raced in from outside, slapped James’s back, shouted ‘You’re it!’ and ran up the stairs with James hot on his heels. He left in his wake a silence that was more awkward than Batman in a dress. 

‘I suppose I’ve put you off,’ Draco said, sitting back on the sofa as gracefully as he could considering he’d just made a giant tit out of himself.

Harry sat next to him and shook his head.

‘I will tell you. About Kasen’s mother.’ Draco looked over at Harry, judging his expression. He didn’t look angry, just a little bemused, like he’d just been run over by an inflatable truck. ‘But not today.’ 

‘I understand.’ 

‘How about tomorrow?’

The children whizzed past again and Harry smiled. ‘You’re on.’

 

TBC …


	9. Chapter 9

  
Author's notes: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts and seven years since the end of the war, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.

This chapter contains refs to adult situations, including prostitution. No graphic descriptions.

* * *

Monday morning. Draco’s eyes popped open, his heart thumping crazily and his entire body sweating. His mind immediately focused on the source of his bad dreams. He wasn’t sure what was upsetting him the most, the fact that Harry Potter had the hots for him, Kasen’s first day of school, or the promise he’d made to tell Harry the truth about Kasen’s mother.

‘ _Daddy!_ ’ Kasen said angrily from the doorway. His put his hands on his pyjama-clad hips and scowled. ‘Why aren’t you up yet? It’s school day.’

‘I’m up, I’m up, I’m definitely up,’ Draco said, swinging his feet the floor and standing up so quickly the floor tilted. ‘How about a shower this morning?’

Kasen sighed and shook his head at his father. ‘I don’t have time for a bath, do I? Oh, Daddy.’ 

Draco hung his head in shame and trudged to the bathroom. He helped his son to shower, dressed him, and made them both a big bowl of porridge each. 

At least he didn’t have to worry about Kasen. For the sounds of it – the sounds mostly being happy singing and a poor attempt at whistling – Kasen was perfectly happy to go to school. 

Harry beeped his horn at eight twenty and Draco and Kasen joined him and James for the school run.

‘James seems happy,’ Draco said.

Harry did, too, and when he turned his head and smiled, Draco returned it. 

‘He’s really looking forward to it,’ Harry said. ‘I think the fact that he has Kasen makes a huge difference.’

Draco agreed. Kasen was a bold child, but school was a scary place. It was new and unknown there were bigger kids there. Draco remembered his first day at school. He’d breathed in the scent of old magic, ancient bloodlines, crossed ancestry, and knew he was home. But despite the sensory comfort, he was out of sorts with the other children. Some of them didn’t even know who he was, and some of them had never even used magic and that was unsettling, like he was surrounded by fireworks that didn’t know they had fuses. 

Harry parked the car and together they walked their children into the school. 

Kasen squeezed Draco’s hand more tightly than usual, but that was the only sign of any trepidation, and maybe it wasn’t even that; it was a windy day and maybe Kasen thought the breeze would carry him away. Kasen’s hair whipped into his eyes and Draco regretted not getting his hair cut.

‘They’ll be fine,’ Harry said once he and Draco were back in the car. ‘Don’t worry.’

Draco wasn’t aware that he looked worried, even though he was, and not just about Kasen.

‘So, what do you want to do?’ Harry asked, starting up the car. 

What was he asking? Do what? Was this a date? Did Harry just want to know about Kasen’s mother? Was it a set up? 

Was he just being paranoid? 

‘Can we go back to my place?’ Draco asked. It seemed the most sensible thing to do, the easiest place to tell a dark secret. 

They drove in silence, and Draco hoped to Merlin this wasn’t a date because it wasn’t going very well. 

Draco’s brain was full of indecision, and even though he’d promised he’d tell Harry about Kasen’s mother, he wasn’t entirely sure he was going to keep that promise.

The risks were so great. 

‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Harry said suddenly. He flicked the indicator and turned left. ‘Seriously, I don’t want to make you miserable, and I’ve got no right to pry.’

‘What happens when you’re bored of all this?’ Draco asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘All this.’ Draco gestured randomly to the windscreen, passenger window and everything beyond. ‘This Muggle life. What happens when it starts to bore you and you go back to your wizarding ways. You’ll take my secrets with you.’

‘Even if I did—’

Draco glared.

‘Even if I did,’ Harry repeated, ‘I wouldn’t betray you. I don’t do things like that. I wouldn’t do that to you.’

‘Why not?’

‘You know why not! Christ, what do you want, a formal confession in the form of a love poem?’

‘Love?’

Harry turned pink and braked too hard at the T junction. ‘I meant … I mean … I didn’t. I’m just saying …’ He turned to look pleadingly at Draco.

Draco grinned.

‘You bastard,’ Harry said. 

‘That was to be my middle name, you know.’

‘Oh I believe you.’

Draco relaxed in his seat and put his head back against the headrest. ‘Bastard if I was boy and bitch if I was a girl. Pull over.’

‘What?’

‘Pull over. There, that little car park.’ Draco pointed to a small lay-by. There was only one other car there, a black Range Rover with three huge German Shepherds in the back. Harry roughly parked the Peugeot next to it and they waited in silence until a short man in a wax jacket open the back of his vehicle and shooed his dogs out and into the woodland.

‘Is everything okay?’ Harry asked.

Draco frowned into the wing mirror and watched the man and his dogs disappear behind them. ‘You know when sometimes you make a decision and then you have to follow it through there and then? You simply can’t wait another moment.’

‘Uh huh. Like when you have to have prawn crackers and you can’t get to the Chinese quick enough?’

‘Exactly like that. Kasen’s mother was a prostitute.’ Draco stopped there and gazed out of the windscreen. He lowered his window and let in the fresh scent of chestnut.

‘Okay. All right. Do you want to elaborate?’ 

Draco rolled his head in Harry’s direction and smiled sadly. ‘I suppose I’d better.’

Harry unclipped his seatbelt and turned in his seat. ‘Go for it. I’m listening. I’m here.’

‘It’s not a sob story, Harry. I wasn’t duped. I knew who she was and what I was doing. She was an escort and I paid her to have sex with me. I was on a self-destruct kick and unfortunately the booze gave me terrible headaches and the drugs just made me giggle. I only had the sex left.

‘I had no friends, no family, just a huge manor house to rattle about in by myself. Even the portraits wouldn’t talk to me. Everyone either hated me or was ashamed of me. One side thought I was nothing but a dirty Death Eater and the other slammed me for betraying the Dark Lord. I couldn’t win. So I found this lovely girl, a pureblood who had a taste for the kinkier side of life. I paid her well for her exclusivity.’

‘And you got her pregnant,’ Harry said.

‘No. It wasn’t as simple as that. Shush and let me tell my story. I was incredibly lonely—’

‘Aren’t you gay?’ Harry interrupted. ‘Since always. Ish.’

Draco frowned, annoyed at being interrupted again. ‘Yes. Of course. But the point was to do something dirty. Do keep up, Potter.’

‘Right, sorry.’

‘You will be. Where was I? Oh yes, lonely, desperate, blah, blah, blah. So I had this brilliant idea. I would have a child, someone who would always love me and adore me no matter what, someone who would always be my friend, my companion, the love of my life. So I paid her.’

‘To have your baby?’

‘Yes. She was unwilling at first, but I managed to change her mind with a vast sum of cash and a substantial property in Brussels. But things got complicated. She got … attached. And that’s when the trouble started.’ 

Draco watched Harry carefully, watched him suck in a lungful of air in preparation for whatever horror was to come.

‘Tell me,’ Harry said.

‘She wanted to keep the baby for herself, even offered me all my money back, minus what she’d already spent on shoes – she had an obsession, you see. Anyway, I wasn’t prepared to accept this so I took action.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I took her entire family out of action. I paid some shady types to do it for me. I burned their properties to the ground and ruined their businesses. It’s surprising how quickly one person can destroy another when the mind is motivated.’ 

‘Jesus, Draco … Did anyone get hurt?’

Draco hesitated and tried to gage Harry’s expression. He didn’t look completely disgusted, but the worst was still to come. 

‘Her father? He had a nasty Screwt-related accident. Her bother met with the wrong end of a broom and her cousin went to Azkaban for a whole string of things he didn’t do. And so on and so on.’ He glanced at Harry again. There was no expression. 

‘That was basically all it took. When the time came, she gave up the baby, kept her mouth shut and I left, for good. End of story. So, still want to come back to my place for tea?’

Harry exhaled and Draco stupidly wondered if he’d been holding his breath the whole time.

‘Well?’ Draco prompted.

‘I’m not sure what I was expecting,’ Harry said.

Draco shrugged. ‘Coffee perhaps? I think I’ve got some Cranberry—’

‘No, you know that’s not what I mean. Wow. No wonder you didn’t want to tell me anything.’

Draco looked away. ‘Are you going to turn me in?’

‘To who? What would be the point?’

‘You don’t think I deserve to be punished?’

‘I think you did a terrible thing.’

‘And?’

‘And what?’ Harry asked, irritation clear in his voice. ‘If you’re looking for absolution, I’m not the right person to give it.’

Draco rolled his eyes. This was so typical of Potter. What an utterly righteous and ridiculous thing to say. ‘I know that, idiot. What I want to know is how much you’ve gone off me.’

Harry turned back to look out of the windscreen. ‘I haven’t gone off you. You … you were a different person then,’ he said, nodding to himself once. ‘You wouldn’t do that now.’

‘Wouldn’t I?’

Harry looked sharply at him.

‘The best thing in my life came from the worst thing I ever did. I don’t regret it, not one little bit. I love my son too much for that.’

‘And what will you tell him when he asks about his mother?’

Draco opened the car door and got out. ‘I’ll lie. You’d know all about that.’ 

*****

__

_‘Well?’_

_Draco looked away, looked at the window, at the wall, at the spider scuttling across his bed, anywhere but at Potter. ‘Fine. I’m in. But this prophecy better be bloody right.’_

_‘It is.’_

_‘I’m not sure what I can actually do. I’m not exactly the tough warrior type.’_

_‘Two things,’ Potter said, and Draco watched him pace from one wall to the one opposite. ‘Stand with me and the others, we need all the bodies we can get.’_

_‘What an adorable turn of phrase. Are you sure you’re supposed to win?’_

_‘Shut up, you know what I mean,’ Potter said._

_‘And the second thing?’_

_Potter stopped pacing. His expression was grim, his eyes hard, set, and aimed right at Draco. ‘Teach me. Nobody else will. Show me all the Dark Magic you know.’_

_Draco met his gaze, stood, and smiled. ‘Now that, I can do.’_

__  
*****

It wasn’t a long walk home, but it was a windy one. Draco’s hair flapped about wildly and he wished he’d tied it back or at least worn some sort of hat. Not the deerstalker, though. Kasen found it far too embarrassing. 

He smiled when he thought about his son and realised that he meant what he’d said to Harry. He would do it all again, exactly the same, because there was no way he could be without Kasen. His son had changed his life, for the better. 

Draco glanced up at the half-grey, half sunny sky and felt light spits of rain on his nose. Summer was definitely on its way out, which was great news for his skin and an even greater relief for his garden which was crying out for a little more moisture and much less flambé. When Draco looked back down, he saw Harry’s car parked in the driveway and Harry leaning against the boot, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. 

‘Hey, I would have taken you home, you know.’

‘And then what?’ Draco said, stopping a good ten feet away.

‘I don’t know, come in for tea probably, if the offer was still open. Is it?’

Draco regarded him carefully, investigating for signs of hate or potential betrayal. Eventually, he nodded. ‘I apologise. For my unreasonable, highly strung and infuriating behaviour. I can’t help it.’

Harry nodded and pushed away from his car. ‘I’m not here to judge you. You’re a good father and I know you know that. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to answer for. You did what you did and that’s that. It’s in the past. It should stay there.’

Draco tried to swallow and wondered who had stolen all his saliva. ‘And what do I tell my son?’ he whispered. ‘What do I tell him when he asks where his mum is?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe I can help you work that out.’

Draco looked back up at the sky as it opened wide and turned the sprinkling raindrops into a shining waterfall. There would probably be a rainbow. ‘We’ll have tea in the conservatory, shall we?’ 

 

TBC…


	10. Chapter 10

The ceiling thumped three times in succession. _Bang, bang, bang._

Draco looked up and scowled. ‘They’ll fall through in a minute.’

‘Probably,’ Harry said, his nose buried deep in a two day-old copy of _The Times_. 

_**Bang!** _

Draco sat down in his favourite arm chair. ‘What _are_ they doing?’

‘Duck Jumping.’

‘Pardon?’

Harry folded the newspaper and put it back in the magazine rack. ‘I have no idea. It’s some sort of game. Looked a lot like Leap Frog.’

Draco looked over at Harry, his expression bewildered. ‘Pardon?’

‘It’s also a game. One person bends over and the other—’

Draco’s eyes widened. 

‘ _Jumps over,_ ’ Harry quickly finished, lightly exasperated. ‘Don’t wizards play it?’

‘Of course not. It sounds silly. Pointless. I can imagine Blast-Ended Skrewt Jumping, though, can’t you? Now that’s a challenge.’

Harry laughed. ‘Ouch. Hold on to your eyebrows.’

The conversation thus degenerated into Hinkypunk Hopscotch, Salamander Skipping and Dungeons and Dungbombs. Apparently, it was all very funny, although James and Kasen didn’t think so when their fathers told them of all these exciting new games. They looked up at Draco and Harry with bored faces and James asked, ‘Is there pudding?’ 

‘I suppose that’s my cue to start dinner,’ Draco said with a weary sigh. He held his arms out and the children pulled him up with great groans and grunts of effort.

Dinner was to be Mexican. Rice, fajitas and plenty of salsa and sour cream. It was a treat for the children to celebrate their first week of school. 

Draco bustled in and out of the kitchen thinking about how smoothly it had gone. Both Kasen and James were having a fabulous time. 

They had learned numbers and colours and even a little bit of reading. Of course, Kasen was good at all these things anyway, and James could already recite all the colours of a rainbow, courtesy of a famous Muggle song stolen long ago from a wizard by the name of Rogerus Rainbus. 

They had also learned all about the local organic farm which they would visit near the end of term. Kasen now refused to eat potatoes unless Draco could prove they were organically grown, which was something of an annoyance. 

On the Thursday, Kasen and James learned all about the colour purple and now both refused to eat beetroot, which was a relief to Harry as he apparently couldn’t work out how to cook it anyway. Draco being Draco, wasn’t going to be bested by a pair four year-olds, so, using extreme stealth and Harry with a DVD as a distraction, he put the beetroot in a chocolate cake under the guise of butter. _That_ was to be pudding. 

Harry stood in the doorway while Draco cooked, under strict orders to _‘Stay out of my kitchen, and your offspring, too. I don’t want to trip over random Potters while I’m handling hot things.’_

Harry’s muttered reply had made Draco blush. And now, while he stood stir-frying mushrooms, peppers, chicken and onions and listening to Harry drop horrifyingly obvious hints about how Draco had such a lovely garden and oh how Harry wished he had such skill, Draco had a thought. 

Harry liked him. More than liked. But did he like Harry? He hadn’t even considered this what with his meltdown over Kasen’s mother and how Harry would react. Yet everything seemed okay, and Harry was still here, and when Draco turned around to look at him, Harry was smiling faintly and looking … attractive? Handsome? Hot? 

He also realised something else. 

He’d once felt Harry Potter’s hands on his body, but he’d never tasted a kiss from his lips. 

*****   
__

_‘I knew you had it in you, Potter. I’m starting to think you would have done well in Slytherin.’_

_‘Shut up, Malfoy.’_

_Draco circled him, wand at his side, prowling, hunting, seeking. ‘Oh come on, don’t be shy. You take to Cruciatus like a Hippogriff takes to the air. Tell me, does it make you hard when I scream?’_

_There was disgust in Potter’s face when he looked up. ‘You are revolting.’_

_Draco laughed and placed his wand on the table with shaking fingers. ‘No, just truthful. It doesn’t make you want to fuck? It does me. Maybe we should kill two Flobberworms with one stone.’_

_‘Firstly, that was a crappy analogy. Secondly, you’re not seriously coming on to me?’_

_‘Maybe.’_

_‘Screw you.’ Potter started for the door._

_‘I believe that’s the point. Don’t you want to? I for one am all for disgusting dirty sex the night before I die.’_

_Potter stopped, his hand hovering over the door handle. ‘You’re not going to die,’ he whispered._

_‘Really?’_

_Potter nodded but wouldn’t lift his head._

_‘And you know this because of the Prophecy?’ Draco asked. ‘The Prophecy that says you’re going to emerge victorious?’_

_‘Yeah.’_

_Draco leaned back against the table, folded his arms and laughed. ‘You must think I’m a total idiot. The Prophecy says no such thing.’_

_‘It … it does.’_

_‘Be quiet, no it doesn’t. You’re a terrible liar.’ Draco unfolded his arms and crossed the room. ‘You’ll fight The Dark Lord tomorrow and you’ll die, as will I,’ he said, opening the door that Potter was having so much trouble with. ‘Off you go, then. Maybe Ginny Weasley will oblige you.’_

_Potter hesitated, avoiding Draco’s penetrating stare. ‘Will you still fight?’_

_‘Of course. What else is there left?’_

__

***** 

Draco crossed the kitchen, took Harry’s face in his hands, and pressed their lips together. 

Harry’s mouth was softer than he remembered. Draco still had the scar on his shoulder where Harry had sunk his teeth in, desperate and needing to cause pain as Draco needed the same. 

They moved closer, kissed deeper, Harry’s hands touching Draco’s hips, pulling him in, trapping him in a moment of—

‘Daddy, how tall am I?’

Draco and Harry sprang apart. 

‘What? Erm,’ Draco said, smoothing down his perfectly smooth trousers, ‘about twenty minutes.’

Kasen looked confused but he nodded anyway and went back to the living room. 

‘And you can shut up,’ Draco said to Harry, displeased at his apparent amusement. 

‘Sorry, you just so cute when you’re all flustered.’

‘I’m not cute,’ Draco said, turning back to the counter and cutting open a packet of flour tortillas. ‘I’m anything but.’ 

Harry walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. ‘You’re cute like a python.’

‘I do not have beady eyes!’

Exasperated, Harry rested his forehead down between Draco’s shoulder blades. ‘Where did you get ‘beady eyes’?’

‘That’s what pythons have.’

‘What do I see in you?’

‘Must be the hair,’ Draco said. ‘Everyone digs the hair.’ 

Harry drew the hair aside to kiss Draco’s neck. 

Draco closed his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I think I do.’

‘Do what?’

 

*****

 

‘Guess what I did,’ Draco said to Severus Snape three days later while he was cutting back his old teacher’s bugbane. The sun had decided to shine so Draco pulled off his jumper. 

‘I dread to think. Go on, surprise me.’

Draco glanced over his shoulder at Severus, who was lounging in a Muggle deckchair, overseeing the work on his incredibly untidy garden. Like Draco could actually do any damage that would show amongst the chaos of brambles, knee-high grass and rampant dandelions. 

‘I kissed Harry Potter,’ Draco said brightly.

There was momentary pause. ‘Please tell me you’re simply trying to make me sick.’

Draco grinned at a bramble and attacked it his with his secateurs. ‘Nope, sorry. Can’t do that.’

‘I see. Well, let that be the end of it, then.’

‘Hardly. He’s quite a good kisser. I wish I’d known.’

The deckchair creaked as Severus leaned back. ‘We were all under the impression that you did.’

Draco froze. The secateurs dropped into the grass. ‘What did you just say?’

‘You heard me.’

‘You knew? All this time? All along you knew we’d had sex at the Order?’

Severus Snape sat bolt upright. ‘Dear Merlin! I was attempting to wind to you up, Draco. I really didn’t need to know that.’

Draco covered his mouth with his hand. ‘Oh shit,’ he said through his fingers. 

*****   
__

_Draco walked past Harry Potter’s door. He glared resentfully at it and at the disgusting noises of Ginny Weasley spreading her legs for the great Potter. So, he’d convinced her. Fine, if he wanted to catch ginger disease then so be it. He hoped Potter choked on her._

_Draco slammed his own door shut, tore off his clothes, and quickly climbed under the covers and hugged his pillow. He squeezed his eyes closed and wondered if it was last time he’d ever lie down to sleep. When he opened them again, Potter was there, standing dressed in just his jeans and a love bite, a pathetic one at that._

_‘Can I help you?’ Draco asked. His eyelids struggled to stay open and his limbs felt heavy and relaxed. He wondered what time it was._

_‘Yes,’ Potter said. ‘It does get me hard.’_

_Draco slowly turned over onto his back and stretched, pushing the blankets down to his naked belly. ‘Come to tell me or show me?’_

_Draco got his answer in form of being dragged up the bed by his arm. Potter gripped his hair tightly and yanked his head back, his mouth going straight to Draco’s neck and biting._

_Now, _that_ was a love bite. It hardened him in an instant and the more he struggled to breathe without gasping, the harder Potter bit._

_Then Potter was gone._

_Draco opened his eyes and watched with increasing hunger as Potter knelt over him, scrambling to open his jeans. ‘Roll over,’ Potter ordered._

_‘You must be joking, I don’t bottom for anyone, and especially not for some pathetic Gryffindor. I bet you haven’t even got any sort of lubrication.’_

_Potter smoothed his hand over Draco’s throat and squeezed. ‘Shut. Your fucking mouth. And roll over.’_

_Draco’s arousal had never known such heights. Finally, he wielded power over Saint Potter. He was the one, Draco Malfoy, to prove that Potter wasn’t the personification of pure goodness that he made himself out to be. His lips lifted in a lazy smile. ‘Are you going to hurt me?’_

_‘If you want,’ Potter replied, his eyes searching Draco’s body, never settling, restless._

_‘I want.’ Draco rolled over._

__

***** 

‘It was a long time ago.’

Severus nodded. ‘I agree. I hate to think about your reasoning back then. Can I assume it is different to your current reasoning?’

‘I don’t have any reasoning.’

Severus raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that so?’

‘Oh be quiet, you know what I mean. I like him. He’s … I don’t really know. We could never have been friends then, not in a million years. I suppose he matured somewhat.’

‘As have you,’ Severus said. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Draco snapped, searching the grass for his secateurs. ‘I’ve always been mature.’

‘Did you hear the Hufflepuff team won the House cup this year?’

Draco’s mouth dropped open. ‘Those Bacchanalian, bastardised badgers! How _boring._ ’ 

Severus’s other eyebrow joined the first. ‘You hold maturity in spades.’

‘Fine! Other words beginning with b! It’s still a travesty. Do you want to come to lunch one day next week? I’d like you to meet Kasen.’

If the sudden flip in conversation surprised Severus, he didn’t show it. ‘It would be an honour, Draco.’

‘I miss Hogwarts.’

‘I know.’

 

TBC …


	11. Chapter 11

Everything was going fantastically, swimmingly, absolutely fabulously. Adverbs galore! 

Kasen continued to enjoy school; Harry didn’t hate Draco’s guts for being a Mean Malfoy; and Draco had just had a new bathroom suite installed. 

And then there was the kissing. 

Harry Potter knew how to kiss until Draco’s toes curled up in his boots and his hair threatened a repeat use of his straightening irons.

The only problem was the lack of this curly wurley goodness, and it wasn’t for want of trying.

There was an issue. Two issues, actually: one named Kasen and the other named James. They had the sort of knack for bad timing that only children could possess. 

‘I’m ready! I’ve got Archibald and my picture and my bag and James says bye but he’s not coming down because he’s drawing a pig. Bye, Uncle Harry!’

There was nothing quite like a pop-up son.

Draco unconsciously touched his lips and tried not to look at Harry. 

‘Are you sure I can’t give you a lift home?’ Harry said.

‘No, really, Kasen and I enjoy the exercise.’

Kasen flapped his floppy dog at Draco. ‘Archibald hates walking. Daddy carry him please.’

Draco took the dog and bade Harry farewell. On the walk home, Draco realised he hadn’t before considered the logistics of dating his son’s best friend’s father. He wasn’t at all sure how Kasen would take it.

Would Kasen think it strange if Harry and James came to spend the night? Or would he merely be excited by the thought of all-night snap? 

It was the middle of September and the weather was definitely turning to the Dark Side. Permanent grey clouds sheathed the sky and the rain came down every few days. 

_Why don’t you hate me, Harry Potter?_

Draco liked autumn. He liked the colours and the crispness in the air. 

He didn’t like the wind, though. In fact, the wind was getting on his last nerve. It had already loosened three fence panels and bent his bird table. He was also missing several flowerpots and a gnome, although he suspected the latter was something to do with Mr Hurst from The Corner Farm. Draco hated to use the word fetish …

When they arrived home, Kasen charged the stairs and emptied out his toy chest to find his tubs of Play-Doh. Draco re-packed the chest an hour later and chastised Kasen for smishing his Play-Doh caterpillar into the carpet.

Kasen went to bed in a sulk and Draco was left to himself. He read the end of a book, watched television until the satellite signal went out and then reached for his recipe books to find an ingenious way to slip turnips unnoticed into a main meal. And when he was bored of that – and in no way foiled – he decided to sort through the magazine rack. He’d largely ignored it for the last few weeks and unread papers were starting pile up. 

He stacked up the copies of _The Times_ first, stopping only to rip out the crosswords. Next came the numerous magazines: _Good Housekeeping, Sainsbury’s Magazine, Garden Answers_ and _Take a Break_ , and finally the wizarding papers.

Draco had been far too busy and preoccupied to read about what was going on in a place he couldn’t go. He screwed up his nose at the first rolled-up copy of the _Evening Prophet_ and cast it into a separate ‘burn’ pile. 

‘Rubbish,’ Draco said under his breath. ‘Utter claptrap. I don’t know why I ever bothered.’

He scooped them all up in one armful and dumped them over in the basket next to the fireplace. 

The next thirty minutes were spent trying to light the _bloody, stupid, bollocking_ fire using logs, matches and firelighters. He eventually gave up and cast _Incendio!_

Draco untied and unrolled each paper with reverence and loving care. Then he made a carefully selected face and tossed each one into the flames. ‘Burn, baby, burn,’ he sang.

It was a satisfying ritual and it was going perfectly well until he reached the penultimate paper. He pulled the ribbon and _The Daily Prophet_ flopped open to reveal his own face scowling back at him.

‘Oh no.’

 

*****

 

__

_‘I could heal you,’ Potter said._

_Draco breathed out, slowly, unsteadily. ‘No. I’ll heal myself. Later.’ His body throbbed, screamed, swelled and purpled._

_Potter pulled his jeans on, buckled his belt._

_‘You’d better hope you die,’ Draco said. ‘Otherwise you might have to tell that ginger slapper what we just said.’_

_‘Don’t call Ginny that.’_

_‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Draco turned on his side and wished he hadn’t. ‘I was taking about her mother. You’re doing her, too, I presume.’_

_‘You’re revolting.’_

_‘So you keep saying. Yet it didn’t stop you from buggering me half to death.’_

_Potter stared at the floor. ‘Are you okay?’_

_Draco gritted his teeth and glared hatefully. Potter and his stupid, pathetic, idiotic conscience. It wouldn’t do. Draco wanted anger, bitterness, hate. He wanted Potter to feel absolute rage._

_‘I’m fine. Just considering my next move actually. Let me see, you fucked the Weaselette, then you fucked me, what’s left? A threesome?’ Draco screwed up his nose. ‘Oh no, I don’t think I could. I know she’s a pureblood but, really, I’d rather shag Granger.’_

_Then, Potter was there, on top of him, hands around his throat. ‘I hate you, Malfoy. I hate you more than anyone I’ve ever met.’_

_‘More than the Dark Lord? Surely not. Come on, Potter, let me have fun on my last night. I shall die tomorrow and I know how terribly upset everyone will be.’_

_‘What makes you think you’ll see tomorrow.’ Potter squeezed._

__

*****

 

‘Harry, I need you. Come over now.’ Draco put down the phone and began a gruelling pacing routine that didn’t end until Harry rapped lightly on the front door.

‘What is it?’ Harry whispered, James fast asleep like an unconscious rag doll in his arms. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Put James down in my bed.’

Harry shook his head. ‘He might wake up. He’ll be confused.’

‘Fine,’ Draco snapped, but he took James gently from Harry and settled him on the sofa with a chenille blanket and Draco’s favourite fluffy cushion.

‘I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?’ Harry asked.

Draco nodded and tucked James in, standing over him to make sure he was sleeping soundly. When he finally followed Harry into the kitchen, he picked up the newspaper on the way and then dropped it onto the kitchen table with a slap. ‘Look,’ he said.

Harry turned around from the counter. His hair was a mess and his shirt buttons were done up wrong. ‘This better be … Oh fuck.’

‘What am I going to do? They’ve found me.’

Harry stared at the paper, his mouth hanging open stupidly. 

**Draco Malfoy Living as a Muggle**

‘Oh my god,’ Harry said.

‘How did this happen? I don’t remember anyone following me? There was no flash. You know what those cameras are like. They burn off a layer of your eyeballs every time they go off. Did you know Viktor Krum is partially blind now?’ 

Harry slowly sat down at the table, leaving Draco to resume his pacing.

‘And there’s no way they could find this house.’ Draco said. ‘The Fidelius Charm is foolproof. Even the Delivery Owls forget where they’ve been.’

Harry started to read: ‘Draco Malfoy, son of infamous Death Eater the late Lucius Malfoy, has been found living as a Muggle in Dorset. Mr Malfoy has been missing for the past four years and was presumed to be hiding somewhere in the Baltic States. Minister for Magic, Percy Weasley—’ 

Draco paused to snort derisively.

‘—Percey Weasley,’ Harry repeated, ignoring him, ‘was not available for comment, but sources say he is very concerned and late for lunch. One such source said: “Draco Malfoy living with Muggles?! Mark this, it won’t be long before they start turning up dead.’ Another source shook his head sadly and walked away.’ Harry skimmed the rest, frowning ever more deeply as he read, until he finally looked back up at a now still Draco who was chewing his thumbnail.

‘I’m finished, aren’t I?’

‘No,’ Harry said. ‘No. They don’t know anything. This is bullshit.’

‘It isn’t! They know where I am!’

Harry stood and hurried over to Draco, taking hold of his shoulders and giving him a little shake. ‘They don’t know anything. They’re guessing. That’s all this is.’

‘How can it be? They know.’

‘They don’t. They clearly don’t know what they’re talking about. They said Dorset. This is Hampshire.’

‘I know that, I’m not a complete window licker.’

Harry blinked at him.

‘I’m not an idiot,’ Draco clarified. ‘But Dorset is one county over so if it was a stab in the dark it was a damn close one. Merlin, what am I going to do? I’ll have to leave. Oh no, I don’t want to.’

‘You don’t have to. Look at this picture.’ Harry picked up the newspaper and held it up. ‘Look at it and tell me what you see.’

Draco turned his head away. ‘I don’t want to. I look foul. My hair is too short.’

Harry waited.

‘Hang on,’ Draco said, snatching the paper. ‘This is an old picture. This was taken before I left. So that means …?’

‘They don’t know where you are. That whole article is a load of shite.’

Draco relaxed. He dropped the paper into the table and moved closer to Harry. ‘Thank you. My brain goes into a sort of overdrive sometimes.’

Harry smiled and brushed his fingers through Draco’s hair. ‘I know.’

Draco closed his eyes and slid his arms around Harry’s waist. It came as no surprise when Harry kissed him. 

 

*****

 

They spent the night in opposite armchairs as James had sprawled like a cat and now somehow took up the entire three-seater sofa and Draco claimed he couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to be alone. So they chose to stay up all night and talk. Unfortunately, Draco was overcome with sleep the moment his bottom connected with the seat of the armchair.

When he woke, it was to the smell of toast and an awful crick in his neck. ‘Ow,’ he complained, rubbing his neck and trying to straighten his crippled back. 

‘Ah, you’re up,’ Harry called from the kitchen.

‘Sort of.’

‘Jam?’

‘No, no,’ Draco said, tilting his head from side to side. ‘It’s just a bit stiff.’

There was silence from the kitchen and then Harry poked his head through the door. ‘I meant jam on your toast.’

‘Oh I see, yes that would lovely. It’s in the—’

‘Already got it.’

‘You’ve made yourself at home, then? Good.’ Draco stretched and tried to shake out the pins and needles from his left hand.

‘Kasen told me where everything is,’ Harry said to the rhythm of a knife scritch, scritch, scratching against toasted bread.

‘He’s up?’ Draco looked around him. No sign of Kasen and no James flopped across the sofa. 

‘Yep,’ Harry said bending over Draco’s shoulder and passing him a plate of strawberry jam on toast. Toast cut into soldiers. ‘The kids have been up for ages. No offence, but you could sleep through a war.’

‘I sort of did.’ Draco held up one of the thin strips of jammy bread and glanced questioningly up at Harry.

‘Uh, sorry, got carried away,’ Harry explained, sitting himself down on the sofa and pulling James’s blanket out from under him. ‘I’m not used to making breakfast for adults. Anymore.’

Draco nodded, ate a soldier and slouched back into the armchair and its comfy, cosy cushions. He sighed through his nose. 

‘Bad dreams?’ Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. Yes, was the answer, but it wasn’t suitable for morning conversation, especially with children flying around the house, not literally (for now). ‘Just one of those annoying memory dreams,’ he said, which was perfectly true. It was a memory of a war, of the most terrifying moments of Draco’s life.

‘Want to talk about it?’

‘No thank you, Dr Phil. I’d better get myself together, I can’t imagine what time it is.’

Harry looked at his watch. ‘You’ve got twenty-five minutes before we need to be in the car.’

Draco stuffed as much toast in mouth as possible. Eating gracefully, be damned. 

*****   
__

_They stood looking across the Malfoy lands, a wretched smattering of people to take down the darkest power the world had ever known._

_‘Five minutes!’ Moody called. ‘The wards will drop then we take them from all sides.’ He grinned at the manor like it was a mouse in a corner, no mouse hole, no escape, no cheese. His expression was a comical contrast to everyone else’s pale faces, some frightened, some blank, some angry and righteous. ‘Ready to claim back your heritage, son?’ he asked Draco._

_‘Don’t call me son!’ Draco said. He looked to his right, at Dumbledore’s-ridiculous-Army and its foolhardy leader, Harry Potter._

_As if drawn by a magical pull, Potter looked around._

_‘Watch you don’t get your own people in the back, Malfoy,’ Moody whispered. ‘You’ll need us if you ever want to see all that money again.’_

_Draco clenched his jaw and stared at the manor’s highest tower. The wind rustled the leaves in the trees. The branches swayed and a sudden gust released some of them to the ground. Free._

_Draco gripped his wand tightly with both hands, kneading the wood, soaking it with his energy. ‘Protect me,’ he whispered to it. ‘Please.’_

_‘I’ll try.’_

_Potter’s voice, but Draco stared at the tower, at his old playroom where he learned to read and once adored the House-elves._

_‘I’m sorry,’ Potter said. ‘What I did to you, I …I didn’t mean to.’_

_Draco swallowed and remembered the bliss of fading oxygen and creeping death. He breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of burning flesh and magnolia, and hoped that when death called, it called quickly. ‘You should have finished it.’_

_Potter shook his head. ‘You can’t manipulate me that easily.’ He covered one of Draco’s hands with his own. ‘I’m going to get you through this.’_

_A tear rolled down Draco’s cheek. ‘You’d better.’_

__

 

TBC ...


	12. Chapter 12

__

_His wand, three feet away. Might as well be three miles. He wanted to be brave, wanted to avenge, strike down, prove he wasn’t like the monster before him._

_‘I know what you’re thinking, Draco, but that’s not you, is it?’_

_Draco backed away and The Dark Lord stepped forward._

_‘You don’t want to destroy me, you want to join me, because you know I’ll win. You want to be on the winning side.’_

_Cold hands touched him and Draco’s stomach clenched, lurched and rolled. He was unsure if it was the touch that repelled him or the truth._

_‘It’s okay, Draco. I understand.’_

_Frozen in place, his skin red hot, his mouth dry and his face drenched with sweat. ‘I’m sorry.’_

_‘I know you are. But you must be punished.’_

 

*****

 

Sunday lunch with Severus went well. Harry declined to attend despite Draco’s insistence that _It can’t possibly go wrong. Oh go on, it’ll be funny,_ so it was just Draco, Kasen and Severus to enjoy the perfectly cooked chicken and Draco’s special puréed cabbage stuffing. 

Kasen accidentally levitated a pea or two, or possibly three, at Severus and prompted a severe telling off. Kasen left the table in tears and could only be coaxed back by the promise of presents. Presents which Severus would be buying, whether he liked it or not. 

‘It’s a shame,’ Severus said while Draco was washing up. He was sat at the small kitchen table, a huge, black, robed monstrosity compared to the pure, delicate whiteness of Draco’s Muggle kitchen. 

‘What is? Or shouldn’t I ask?’

‘It’s a shame that Kasen will never attend Hogwarts.’

Draco scrubbed at a saucepan and glared over his shoulder. ‘Thank you for that.’

‘I’m simply saying—’

‘Well don’t, I’m neither concerned nor interested.’

‘I think we both know that isn’t true. Magic is inside Kasen as it is inside you.’

Draco slammed the saucepan down on the draining board with a great clang. ‘Stop it! I don’t want to hear it.’

‘Did you hurt yourself, Daddy?’ Kasen said, hovering at the door with a worried expression and a cuddly toy fish.

‘No, no, I dropped something, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.’

Kasen gave a great sigh and rolled his eyes. ‘Fathers,’ he said, walking away shaking his head, and Draco reminded himself to thank Harry for teaching Kasen that little performance.

‘Leave it, Severus,’ Draco said when his son had gone. ‘There’s nothing to be done.’

‘Perhaps there is. You can’t hide forever, Draco. Maybe it’s time to come home.’

‘I don’t want to come home. I’m happy here.’

‘Are you?’

‘Actually yes! Don’t believe me, but it’s true. I have a wonderful life.’

Severus bowed his head in acknowledgement. ‘That, I am sure of.’ 

Yes, Draco was happy, content even. Otterbourne was a wonderful place. He had a wonderful house and a wonderful son. Everything was wonderful.

Draco more or less threw himself into the chair opposite his old Head of House. ‘I am happy. It’s just …’

Severus waited with patience Draco had never before witnessed from him. It spurred him on.

‘Kasen is a little wizard. He doesn’t do magic often, but when he does, he does it instinctively. He makes his rubber ducks spin in the bath and once he threw an entire box of Christmas baubles at me, just to watch them sparkle as they fell. It was beautiful. Nearly took my eye out, mind. 

‘He knows who he is because I’ve never hidden it from him. As much as I occasionally long for them, I can live without the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, but should I deny Kasen the chance of Hogwarts just because I fucked up my own life? Is that fair? I’ve already denied him so much.’

And that was crux of it. 

‘Draco, what makes you think you can’t return to the wizarding world?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, the lynching maybe, or, let me see, the abundance of curses, hexes and jinxes I’ll have thrown at me every time I show my face. And … and other things.’

‘I admit it would be hard at first, but perhaps it would be better to show your face now while your son is still so young. I’m sure your misdemeanours will be largely forgotten by the time he attends Hogwarts.’

‘I _can’t!_ Wait, misdemeanours, how dare you. I was a dark wizard!’ 

Severus met Draco’s annoyed glare. ‘No, you were child caught up in something that was far beyond you.’

‘Tell that to _The Prophet._ You’ve seen they’re still looking for me, I assume. The bastards.’

Severus nodded. ‘They’re a tabloid, Draco, it’s what they do. No one takes them seriously anymore. Not that the brighter among us ever did.’

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘It’s not just that,’ he said irritably. ‘Even if _The Prophet_ left me alone, there are other factors, things I did after the war.’

Severus covered one of Draco’s hands with his own. ‘You don’t have to explain.’

 

*****

__

_‘CRUCIO!’_

_There was pain flowing through every vein, every pore, every skin cell and every follicle. Pure agony that contorted his body, cut off his sight, his hearing, his sense of smell, his sense of being, left him in a twisted darkness, unable to scream, unable to cry. Only one desire._

_The desire to die._

__

 

*****

 

‘Bloody prat apparently knows everything,’ Draco complained to Harry the next day. ‘I think he’s on one hell of a crusade. I’m quite scared.’

‘Scared?’ Harry asked.

‘Of what he’ll do to make things up to me. That’s what all this about. He thinks he couldn’t help me then but maybe he can now.’

‘Hmm.’ Harry rested his hand on the gear stick and looked out of the window. They were parked outside the school where they had dropped off Kasen and James ten minutes before. ‘Makes sense, I suppose. It must have been hard for him to watch the path you were going down, knowing it was the wrong one.’

Draco looked up sharply. ‘Have you been drinking?!’

‘No!’

‘You sound awfully sympathetic to Severus, that’s all.’

‘No,’ Harry said, ‘I’m sympathetic towards you. Big difference.’ He turned the key and the engine started up. It purred smoothly and quietly. ‘Where to?’

‘Home, of course,’ Draco said. He was starting to suspect Harry was going mad.

‘Okay,’ Harry said patiently. ‘Yours or mine?’ There was a faint blush to his cheeks and he fixed his gaze somewhere in the distance.

‘Uh.’ And then the penny dropped.

There was the distinct possibility of sex or other carnal pleasures.

He sat up straighter and tried not to panic out loud. It was different now. Harder. This wasn’t about hate. It was about expressing and doing something properly. It had always been about want and need and the desire to fall together, but this didn’t feel like the same kind of falling. He wasn’t nose-diving to the ground, he was soaring towards the sky, and Harry wasn’t screaming, he was smiling. 

‘Teach me to drive?’ Draco said, and then he wondered where that had come from. ‘Please. It would be so handy if I could. Then I could pick you up. Or we could have races!’

Harry looked vaguely horrified. ‘Do you even have a provisional licence?’

‘What’s that?’

‘Are you really serious about driving?’

‘I think so. It just seems like I should. I mean, you can do it so I don’t see why I can’t,’ Draco said, talking himself into feeling offended. 

Harry looked as though he was trying not to laugh. ‘I’ll tell you what, I’ll drive you to the Post Office and we’ll talk about what driving involves on the way. If you really want to learn, I’ll teach you.’

Draco started to relax.

 

*****

__

_His chin hit the grass and his teeth crashed together. He groaned, rolled onto his side and curled his legs up._

_‘It’s over. It’s fucking over! Give up now!’_

_At Potter’s voice, Draco forced his eyes open and looked up. Blood dripped from Draco’s lips, nose, eyes and ears and fuck-knows where else. His body shook and his breath only made it out in short inadequate puffs._

_‘I’m going to kill you, Tom Riddle,’ Potter said. ‘I’m going to kill you for all this.’_

_The Dark Lord bared his teeth and pointed his wand. ‘Such entertainment. You boys humour me so.’_

__

 

*****

 

There was quite a queue at the Post Office which displeased Harry because the licence applications had to be requested over the counter rather than be picked up from the side. Draco was annoyed just because he hated waiting and the only cashier open appeared to be somewhat on the ‘special’ side. 

So Draco marched to the front, repeatedly rang the bell the staff use to request permission to enter through the security door and then fully bollocked the manager when he came to shoo Draco away. 

This action was met with righteous applause from three old ladies, a woman with twins in a double buggy and an Asian lady in a bright yellow and orange sari, who patted Draco’s hand and said something nice that neither Harry nor Draco understood. 

When Draco got the front – after three more windows miraculously opened up – he said, ‘Erm, yes, erm, I think I’d like a _Muggle automobile permission for practice slip,_ or is it a card of some sort? Harry!’ 

‘He’d like a provisional licence application please,’ Harry said, quickly hurrying to Draco’s side. 

‘Yes, that’s what I said.’

Harry poked him in the ribs.

‘There’s never a dull moment with you, is there?’ Harry said in the car on the way home.

‘Of course not. It will be one of the many perks of a relationship with me.’

Harry nodded and parked slightly wonky in his driveway. ‘Yeah. Definitely.’

‘Mmm.’ Draco looked down at the envelope containing his application form. He fiddled nervously with the edge.

‘Draco?’

When Draco looked up, Harry kissed him. ‘Don’t be nervous. We don’t have to—’

Draco kissed him back. Really kissed him. 

Lips, tongues, hands, and Draco’s toes were curling again and the application form was on the floor, and Harry’s hands felt so good touching his legs, his waist, his chest, slipping beneath his shirt, and Draco struggled to breathe, in, out, in, out, and he pushed against Harry to touch him, to feel his biceps through his Merlin-awful shirt and—

_BEEP!_

Draco gasped.

‘Sorry,’ Harry said. ‘That was me. I elbowed the horn.’ 

‘Oh! Oh. Oh.’

‘Yeah, oh. That was …’

‘Pleasant,’ Draco said. ‘Is it hot in here?’

Harry laughed. ‘I was about to say don’t be nervous, but—’

‘Malfoy’s don’t get nervous,’ Draco insisted, ‘except when faced with immanent death. Or sex with someone we care about, at first anyway. I don’t think my father got nervous every time he slept with my … Urgh, what a horrible thought. Anyway, it’s just, I don’t know, last time was, well, you were there so you know, it wasn’t exactly fairy tale sex and I want this time, our first _proper_ time to be more than about death and hormones. Did I just say that? I might have inhaled Post Office fumes.’

‘You want it to be perfect,’ Harry said, either not noticing or just ignoring Draco’s nervous babble. ‘So do I.’

Draco touched his hand to Harry’s cheek, brushing his thumb lightly back and forth. ‘I’m not sure I deserve you.’

Harry turned his head and kissed Draco’s palm. ‘We deserve each other.’

They both frowned. 

‘I meant that in a nice way,’ Harry said.

‘Quite. So, what shall we do today? I know, we’ll obliterate your garden ready to re-plant.’

Harry groaned and they both got out of the car. ‘Can’t you do it? Or better still, can’t we sit on the sofa and make out?’

‘No, it’s a nice day and it hasn’t rained for a while. The ground should be reasonably dry. Perfect for an end of year blitz!’

Harry fished his door keys out of his pocket and unlocked the front door. ‘But I’ve got Digestives,’ he said weakly. ‘Chocolate ones. I bought them ‘specially.’ 

‘Did you?’ Draco said, kissing Harry again. ‘We’ll have them later. When you’ve indulged in a little hard graft. Gear up, Potter.’ 

 

*****  
 __

_The light. It was so bright. Green smashed against green, meeting somewhere in the middle with a great clash of energy. Snap, crackle, pop, fizz, bang, childish noses before the terrible roar of angry magic pouring like torrential rain from wands gripped like life lines._

_Draco cringed against the coloured lightning as it swayed and threatened. Green streaks sailed over his head to a chorus of mad screaming and laughter._

_Bellatrix._

_Draco looked around him, at the grass he’d once played on, ran through, flew above. He saw his wand and lunged for it, his damp fingers only just finding purchase while his insides raged with pain._

_‘That’s it, Draco! Kill him!’ Bellatrix screeched as a curse hit her in the back. She fell, her feet kicking and her eyes bulging and bleeding. ‘Kill him, kill him, kill him, _kill him!_ ’_

_Draco looked at his aunt and then at the two people he hated more than anyone that had ever lived. This was a crossroads. He made his decision quickly and raised his wand._

__

TBC …


	13. Chapter 13

Exhausted from a week of uprooting and clearing and overseeing the planting of seven hardy shrubs in Harry’s still somewhat shabby excuse for a garden, Draco put Kasen to bed and settled down to watch television. 

It had been too windy to work today and James had a cold, so Draco stayed at home with Kasen and together they painted some pictures and made cheese scones. 

Draco clasped a steaming mug of tea in both hands and sank back into the cushions of his favourite armchair. He closed his eyes and listened to the wind whistling past the window. 

The last few weeks had been amazing. He felt more content than he had in a long time. He and Harry were getting on like a house on fire and Kasen was happier than he’d ever been before. Not that Kasen was a particularly miserable child, but since James had come into his life, he was chirpier, more talkative and playful. And much naughtier.

The clock on the mantle struck eight. The little brass balls circled underneath the dial and then circled the other way, a gentle gonging providing them with a steady beat. Draco opened his eyes and sipped his tea. He put his feet up on a brown leather pouffe and clicked the remote control. It was time for Antiques Roadshow.

An old lady proudly displayed a collection of chamber pots. The first two were reasonably pretty but Draco’s attention waned when the appraiser turned the third over and explained about corrosion around the inner rim.

Draco had also been to see Severus again. He took Kasen with him, providing his son with a colouring book and crayons to keep him out of mischief. He needn’t have bothered as, upon arrival, Severus presented Kasen with three colouring books, a pack of paints, and a fluffy toy snake that was as long as Kasen was tall. 

‘Thank you, Uncle Severussssss,’ Kasen had said, holding up the snake and wiggling it at him.

Draco grinned at the memory of Severus’s sneered, ‘You are most welcome.’

The only issue Draco currently had with Severus was his constant need to nag. It appeared that guilt issues were doing the rounds, and Severus’s constant need to push Draco into coming back to his old world was starting to drive him up the wall.

‘Daddy,’ Kasen said, rubbing at his eyes and clutching his toy snake. ‘Daddy, I’m scared.’

Draco pushed away the pouffe with his feet and sat forward, holding his arms out. ‘What’s the matter? Did you have a nightmare?’

Kasen shook his head and ran into his father’s arms, half tripping over Severus Snake on his way. ‘No. The monster woke me.’

‘What monster?’ Draco asked. He lifted Kasen onto his lap and stroked his messy hair.

‘The monster outside my window.’

‘Oh dear. Would a cuddle make it better?’

Kasen nodded and squashed himself and his snake as close to Draco as he could. ‘Will you make it go away?’

‘Of course I will. I’ll curse it immediately. It’s outside your window, you say?’

‘Right outside. Do it now, Daddy.’

‘All right, but you have to stand guard over my biscuits. Can you do that for me? Can you be brave?’

Kasen nodded again, this time more firmly. When Draco stood and pulled out his wand, Kasen stood in the arm chair with Severus Snake aimed and ready to strike, its cherry red felt tongue dangling dangerously. 

‘Careful, Daddy,’ Kasen warned. ‘I could hear it breaking bones. I think it likes to eat them.’

‘Do not fret. I am all powerful. And my bones taste like celery.’

Kasen screwed up his nose. ‘Yuck.’

‘Exactly. I’m perfectly safe.’ 

Draco searched Kasen’s room and opened the window to look outside. It wasn’t unlike Kasen to imagine a monster or a dragon or the occasional elf, but Draco diligently checked anyway because he knew the one time he didn’t would be the one time an actual, real-life troll would be waiting in the cellar to murder them all while they slept. 

He’d even once checked the biscuit barrel when Kasen claimed to have been mauled by a phantom hand. 

‘There we go,’ Draco called when he was halfway back down the stairs. ‘I told him to scarper and he did, forked tail between his legs and—’ Draco stopped.

‘Daddy! Was that your bones?!’ 

Draco listened, his right foot hovering on the next step down but not quite making the connection. ‘Shh,’ he said. 

It had been a strange sound and Kasen hadn’t been kidding when he said it sounded like breaking bones.

‘DADDY!’

Draco hurried down the rest of the steps and lifted his tearful son into his arms. ‘It’s all right. It’s not a monster. The monster’s gone.’

‘Then what was that noise?’

‘That was …’ The wind whistled past the window and something cracked in the distance. Draco relaxed, relived and glad to put away the sudden irrational fear that there was a monster waiting outside. ‘It was the wind, Kasen. It’s blowy outside and it’s making the trees sway around. I think perhaps some of the branches are breaking.’

‘Breaking bones?!’

‘No, just breaking, sweetheart.’

‘Okay.’ But Kasen still seemed worried. He had that shifty look that either meant he was planning a chocolate attack or he was scared. ‘Can we sleep down here tonight?’

Draco agreed and fetched the duvet from his bed. It wasn’t all that late, but an early night wouldn’t hurt. Besides which, it was terribly late for Kasen. Draco switched off the light and muted the television and together they slept in its dim, flickering glow.

_Crack!_

Startled from sleep, Draco opened his eyes and blinked up at the darkened ceiling. He lifted his head but couldn’t make out the time by the clock on the mantle. The satellite signal had gone out again, the blue screen casting a cobalt blush across the room.

Kasen was still fast asleep, his fingers curled tightly around the fabric of Draco’s shirt. Draco stroked his hair and listened to the wind pick up and up and up. 

The moment of genuine worry came when the wind rattled the window and made a noise like a rushing train. Draco’s brain started to develop concerning questions. Had he closed the shed door? Had he put all his tools away from yesterday? Had he put away the patio furniture? Had he properly secured the plant urns? Had he brought Kasen’s tricycle indoors? Had he fastened the upstairs window shutters …? 

Damn it, he hadn’t brought Kasen’s bike inside. Draco carefully moved his son to the side and climbed over him. He had to get that bike, right now, or he wouldn’t be able to sleep. 

Kasen stirred but didn’t wake, so Draco crept to the front door and hoped to Merlin the bike was still on the porch and not halfway down the street. In the pose of a cautious safe-cracker, Draco removed the chain from the door and twisted the bolt and then the key. He glanced over at Kasen and then eased the door open. 

Or at least he _tried_ to ease the door open. 

The wind took control and the door plus Draco, who was still hanging on to the latch, collided back against the wall.

‘Wha’ that?’ Kasen cried. He got to his feet and peered fearfully over the top of the sofa. 

‘It’s all right. It’s only me. Just me. No monster.’ Draco pushed against the door in a struggle to shut it. The wind rushed into the house and whistled like a demonic kettle. Kasen scampered across the floor and tried his best to help.

‘Windy,’ Kasen said when the door was finally closed.

‘Very.’

‘Scary.’

‘There’s nothing to be scared of.’

‘But what if all the trees fall down?’

‘The trees aren’t going to—’

_Crack!_

‘—fall down.’

‘It’s the monster!’

‘No, no, there’s no monster. I promise. Go and get back under the duvet. I’ll make us both a nice hot chocolate. ’

‘Do monsters like hot chocolate?’ Kasen asked.

‘They detest it. They run for miles at the slightest sniff of it.’

‘Make loads!’

Draco made the hot chocolate and then switched on all the lights when it looked like Kasen wasn’t going back to sleep. Not that Draco could blame him. The wind continued to crank up and up and Draco started to get seriously concerned. The Leylandii tree in the front garden was easily 40ft high and with its thin trunk and shallow roots it was not the most stable of trees. Draco cursed himself for not having it removed long ago. It was a horrible tree anyway and it attracted far too many damnable squirrels. 

Rain lashed against the window pain, the clock struck two and the lights went out. 

‘It’s just a power cut,’ Draco said, rubbing Kasen’s back and casting _Lumos!_ He lit a few church candles on the mantle and a bowl of tea-lights on the coffee table.

‘Daddy, will you get Izzy and Wizzy?’

Kasen’s beloved fish. Draco’s heart sank. ‘I don’t think I can lift the tank, Kasen. I don’t think I’m supposed to. I’m sure they’re fine where they are. You know how much they love your bedroom.’

Kasen’s eyes filled with tears. ‘But … they’re scared. Just like me.’

Draco got the distinct feeling he was being played. On the other hand, Kasen was genuinely concerned for his fish.

‘Please, Daddy.’

With a sigh, Draco stood and carefully pondered his options. The tank was too heavy to lift, but maybe Izzy and Wizzy wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the night in a jam jar. 

It was a good idea, Draco conceded, so he fetched one of his many empty jars that he’d been saving for the homemade jam he’d never got around to making, and made his way to Kasen’s bedroom, jar and candle in hand.

The rain was thunderous against the window, surging with disconcerting force and running down the pane in waves. Draco hurried over to the tank and dipped the jar inside. He caught Wizzy easily enough but Izzy was a smart fish and he evaded the encapsulating jar to the beat of Draco’s colourful language. 

Crack!

Draco looked up at the window and the blackness outside. ‘Oh, Merlin.’

_Crack!_

Draco hesitated then plunged the jar in the tank once more and scooped up Izzy first go. He backed away sharply, his eyes wide, afraid to turn his back to the window.

_CRACK!_

He did turn then, one hand clutching the jar and the other arm shielding his face as the window shattered and showered him with glass and rain. The wall collapsed and Draco glimpsed Kasen’s bed disappearing under a mass of tangled branches. Then the branches were coming down on him. Draco turned and ran.

He didn’t get far.

A weight slammed down on his back and Draco fell face first. He twisted as he went down and landed on his side. He felt an incredible pain in his shoulder and then there was nothing.

 

TBC …


	14. Chapter 14

  
Author's notes: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts and seven years since the end of the war, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications  


* * *

__

_Draco closed his eyes and fell to his knees. His fingers gripped his wand and the overgrown grass, and he prayed._

_Harry Potter or The Dark Lord. If he’d made the right choice, then maybe there was a chance for salvation. If he'd made the wrong choice, then he was about to die a painful death._

_The Dark Lord laughed and Draco’s eyes shot open._

_‘No wand, Potter? Such a shame.’_

_Draco looked around, his eyes desperately searching for Potter’s wand. Why didn’t he have it? Why hadn’t he …?_

_‘Consider it a valuable lesson, one that I have also learned the hard way. Never trust a Malfoy.’_

_Draco’s heart constricted and his stomach finally rebelled. He retched and spilled what little he had in his stomach over the grass. Potter glanced at him from the ground, his eyes narrowed, betrayed and hard._

_‘I didn’t mean to,’ Draco rasped. He bowed his head and wondered if it was possible to AK himself._

__

******

Darkness all around. Soggy wet nothingness. Draco shivered and groaned at the pain in his shoulder. He tried to remember why he was cold, wet, blind and in agony.

‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.’

‘Kasen,’ Draco whispered. ‘Oh no.’ He tried to move again but it seemed impossible. ‘Kasen, go …downstairs. The phone … See if it …’

Then maybe he drifted into unconsciousness because when he next opened his eyes, he was staring at a little blond head, just visible through the blackness.

‘I’m going to rescue you now, Daddy.’ 

Draco couldn’t have moved even if his back was on fire, but he was aware enough to hear the shake in his son’s voice, the fear behind absolute certainty. Then he felt a tugging at his fingers and he remembered he’d at some point found his wand. He tightened his grip on it, but he was weak and it slipped away.

‘Kasen, no, what are you doing?’ he slurred at the dimming image of Kasen’s hair.

Maybe Kasen replied, maybe he didn’t, because when Draco closed his eyes and opened them again and called for his son, there was no answer.

The branches above him shifted and Draco’s shoulder throbbed painfully. He called for Kasen a few more times, and when there was still no answer, he decided it was time for action. He didn’t have his wand but perhaps that was for the best. His aim was downright crappy when he was nervous. Draco managed to untangle his sleeve from a branch lying next to him and then he pushed against the floor to test his leverage. 

The weight above him was too heavy so there was no going that way, but perhaps if he slid himself forward he could crawl to the door. He was at the very least confident that he would be able to stand once there wasn’t a ton and a half of Leylandii tree draped over him. 

Draco laid his forearm on the floor and pulled. And pulled. And pulled.

It was no good. He didn’t have the strength and his leg felt funny, like it was caught on something; it tingled right up to his knee, and Draco thought perhaps it was the worst case of pins and needles he’d ever experienced.

He stopped, his forehead thumping back onto the prickly carpet. Fine, he couldn’t go forward. But perhaps he could go back.

Draco batted branches out of his way, wiggled, kicked with his good leg and generally thrashed about despite the intense pain in his shoulder. He couldn’t stay here. This wasn’t an acceptable situation. His son was out there somewhere and Draco had to get to him. Maybe Kasen was crouching in a corner, frightened and confused, or maybe he was out in the storm.

The wind picked up outside, whistling loudly and confidently. There was no way a little boy would even be able to stand up in that, never mind get help. And where would he go? Would he try to get Harry?

No, it was too far. It was too dangerous. Would he be able to find his way in the dark? 

‘Kasen, please tell me you haven’t,’ Draco whispered to himself, then he thrashed some more until his shoulder felt like it was being ripped off and his leg started to feel painful and warm. 

He finally gave up with an angry sob. ‘Kasen! Come back right this minute!’

_Whoosh!_

Confused and disorientated, Draco flinched and braced himself. He screwed his eyes shut tight and waited for a painful, crushing death. 

It seemed to be taking an awfully long time. 

‘I don’t get this, Harry. What the bloody hell were you thinking?’

‘Not now.’

‘But Harry— ’

‘I said— Jesus.’

Draco drew in sharp breath. ‘Harry.’

The trees shifted again and the weight pressed down harder on Draco’s back. He groaned at the pressure and the constriction in his chest.

‘Hold on, I’m gonna get you out,’ Harry said.

‘Kasen.’

‘He’s fine. Hold still.’

Draco pushed back against the branches as they moved again and bore down on him. ‘No, my son …’

Harry’s hand reached through the darkness and grasped his. Through the newly made gap, Draco saw the glowing tip of a wand and the emergency Portkey he’d given Harry weeks ago.

‘Kasen is fine, okay? I’m not lying. Just don’t worry about him. Worry about you. Uh, or not, because you’re fine. It’ll be okay.’

Out of energy, Draco nodded and let his eyes close. Harry was here. Harry was a hero.

Harry once saved the world.

*****   
__

_The realisation came suddenly._

_‘I’m so sorry.’_

_Draco didn’t care what The Dark Lord did to him for that admission, but Draco was sorry. Sorry he hadn’t chosen the right side. Sorry he was such a selfish fucker. Sorry he hadn’t fought harder. Sorry he’d followed like a mindless sheep. Sorry he’d mistaken death for glamour. Sorry he’d ridiculed, bullied, shoved aside and stamped on anyone that got in his way. Sorry he was a pureblood. Sorry he was so dead inside. Sorry he’d lived his short life causing his own pain. Sorry he hadn’t made the most of the little time life gave. Sorry he’d ever listened to his father._

_Sorry he’d ever been born._

_They locked eyes. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. There was no fear on Potter’s face now, no righteousness, no smugness, no blame, no pity, no hate, no fear. For a moment there was nothing, and Draco looked back at him with everything he had, all the regret, the terror, the loneliness and the desire to be good, the desire to help even if he couldn’t because he was a useless failure, a stuck-up pureblood with a spiteful attitude and a streak of self-preservation that was tainted red with the blood of others._

_He was sorry, and he didn’t want to die._

_The Dark Lord laughed as tears rolled down Draco’s cheeks, mingling with his blood and dripping red drops onto the already stained grass._

_Potter walked the few paces to where Draco sat and crouched down in front of him._

_‘Don’t say goodbye to your boyfriend just yet,’ The Dark Lord said. ‘You’ll be together soon enough.’_

_The other Death Eaters laughed, but Draco ignored them. Potter was smiling and touching his cheek. ‘I’ll be okay.’_

_Potter took Draco’s wand, stood and turned._

_The Dark Lord bared his teeth, half amused, half annoyed. ‘Going to kill us all, are you?’_

_‘Yes.’_

_And then The Dark Lord was gone, his blood spraying all that stood near. So simple, and it would have been beautiful if it wasn’t for the foul smell of guts that hit the air. His Death Eaters froze where they stood, dropped their preys and looked around at each other. Then they were gone too, torn apart from the inside out, one by one, vaporised, annihilated, eradicated._

_Draco closed his eyes and waited for his turn._

__  
*****

‘You lift, I’ll pull him out.’

‘I’m not sure we should move him, Harry.’

‘I’m not leaving him like this. He can barely breathe.’

Draco found that to be true. The weight of the tree was bearing down on him and he couldn’t breathe out like he should. ‘Harry,’ he wheezed.

‘Lift, Ron. Now.’

Then the pressure eased and Harry was pulling at him. Draco grasped Harry’s arms with no intention of letting go. He slid out from under the tree and found himself at the top of the stairs. His chest hurt more than he’d thought, and the pins and needles in his leg were burning.

‘Fish,’ he said.

‘What?’ Harry stroked his hair.

‘Kasen’s Fish.’

‘I’ll come back. I’m taking you to St. Mungo’s first.’

‘No, Harry, please no. Muggle hospital.’ Panic gripped him again and he tried to squirm out of Harry’s strong grip. He couldn’t go to St. Mungo’s. They would find him. They would know. They would destroy him.

‘Draco, I’m sorry, you have to.’

‘No!’

‘Just let him get on with it, Harry. Leave the bastard if he doesn’t want to go. You can’t bloody force him.’

Draco turned his head and looked over at the voice. ‘Weasel.’

‘You’re welcome for the rescue,’ Weasley said, crossing his arms.

‘Draco, I lied,’ Harry said. ‘Kasen did get hurt.’

Draco looked back at Harry with a start, clutching at the raging pain in his shoulder. ‘Kasen? What … what happened to him? Harry, tell me, tell me he’s going to be okay. Tell me!’

‘Calm down. He’s fine, but we _had_ to take him to St Mungo’s.’

‘ _No,_ why? Everyone will know!’

‘I’m sorry. There was no choice. He splinched himself.’

Draco was silent while he was processing this and Harry was examining his leg. ‘He … Apparated?’

‘Right into my front garden. Lucky I was up or I wouldn’t have heard him trying to charge my front door down. You seriously need to look into his magic levels. Can you get up?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, okay.’

Harry helped him up and, to Draco’s surprise, Weasley helped. 

‘What did he leave behind?’ 

‘Not much,’ Weasley answered. ‘Couple of toes. Fred Portkeyed with us and found them on the rug.’

‘Is he alright? Is he scared?’

‘Well, picking up someone else’s toes can’t be pleasant, but Fred’s got a strong stomach for that sort of thing—’

‘My son, you imbecile!’

‘He’ll be better when he can see you,’ Harry interrupted. ‘Ready?’

‘Never. Yes.’

***

If anyone had asked Draco what he remembered of the four hours that followed, he wouldn’t have been able to give a sensible answer. Everything was hazy and wonky, and Draco wasn’t even sure what had been real and what had been a figment of his rattled brain.

He awoke to a general feeling of all-over soreness. There was a weight at his side and Draco looked down to find Kasen curled up next to him, his tiny hands tangled in the extra blanket that had been thrown over him. Draco remembered that and who did it. He looked to his left and saw Harry fast asleep in a chair, his mouth wide open, glasses on skew-whiff, and James lying across his lap in his typical comatose-cat type way. 

Draco tested his shoulder, wiggled his toes and shifted his weight around a little. He didn’t feel good, but he wasn’t in any huge amount of pain.

His movements woke Kasen, and his son stretched and blinked, stretched and blinked. Then he came fully awake in an instant. 

‘DADDY!’

Harry and James woke with a start, both sitting bolt upright in alarm. Draco, however, was used to Kasen’s waking habits and was prepared. 

‘Kasen, are you alright?’

‘I’m fine now, but I was really scared. But then I rescued you! Just like I said I would!’

‘You’re so brave,’ Draco said, cuddling him close. ‘Thank you.’

‘You are very welcome, Daddy,’ Kasen said, carefully enunciating each word. 

‘How are you feeling?’ Harry asked. He lifted James onto the bed to sit beside Kasen.

‘A bit sorry for myself, actually,’ Draco replied.

Harry smiled faintly. ‘Don’t be. You’re lucky you’re still in one piece. If it wasn’t for Kasen—’

‘I squinched myself! Look!’ Kasen held up his bare foot proudly, all five toes now perfectly in place.

‘Splinched,’ Draco corrected. ‘Oh, Kasen, how did you know how to do that?’

‘I read it in a book.’ Kasen turned to Harry. ‘I read everyday. I’m going to be the best and most powerful wizard there ever was,’ he said, lifting his chin in a gesture that was so very like a young Draco.

The bubble of worry that had formed in Draco’s gut expanded until it pressed against the sides of his belly and demanded exit, preferably upwards.

‘Draco,’ Harry said quickly, glancing up at the clock, ‘the press have caught on that I’m here. I don’t think it’ll take long until they realise you’re here, too. Molly should be here soon to take James. Let her take Kasen, too.’

‘No,’ Draco said, pushing the feeling of sickness back down. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘Give me one good reason why not,’ Harry demanded. ‘Go on. Or are you just being stubborn again?’

Draco was taken aback by Harry’s sudden mood swing. He tried to sit up, rattled by his supine positioning and Harry’s towering form.

‘You need to be still. Your bones are still mending.’

‘How can I be still when …?’ Draco suddenly became aware that Kasen and James were watching him intently. ‘I want Kasen with me.’

‘He’s tired. And if he doesn’t leave now, it’s going to be really difficult getting him out without being seen. When the _Prophet_ finds out you’re here, you better believe they’ll be there when you leave – in force. Don’t put him through that.’

Draco scrunched up his blanket with his fingers, his knuckles turning whiter and whiter. ‘Can’t _you_ take him now?’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said hesitantly. ‘I could. But then I won’t be here with you. Draco, you can trust the Weasleys.’

‘The Weasleys despise me.’

‘No, Ron despises you, and you’ve given him plenty of reasons to over the years, so don’t you dare get on your high horse about that. He still helped you when I asked him too. The Weasleys are loyal people. They won’t betray you and Molly is brilliant with kids.’

‘You’re not giving me much choice, are you?’ Draco muttered. He didn’t want Kasen out of his sight, but despite his son’s chirpiness, Draco could see how tired he was. Kasen needed a warm sofa to curl up in, not a hard hospital bed next to his extra neurotic father.

‘Please,’ Harry said, untangling one of Draco’s hands from the blanket and giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘Do it for me.’

‘Oh fine, just put away the gooey eyes!’

Harry grinned and moved in to kiss him. It wasn’t until their lips touched that Draco remembered the children were watching. Except they weren’t, thank goodness. They were right down the end of the bed whispering to each other in a conspiratorial manner.

‘Kasen, if you try to teach James how to Apparate, I shall be very angry.’

‘I wasn’t!’

‘Yes, you were. Now stop it.’ 

Molly Weasley arrived, in a bit of a panic, twenty minutes later. She looked exactly how Draco imagined. Solid and shabby with a big rosy face. 

‘So sorry I’m late. That awful car. One of these days I shall take that bloody exhaust pipe and shove it right up—’

‘Molly!’ Harry interrupted, very quickly, ‘this is Kasen. He’ll be coming back with you and James, if that’s okay.’

Molly waved him away. ‘Of course it’s okay. Plenty of room. Hello, Kasen. How are you? My sons tell me you lost some toes.’

Kasen held up his foot again. ‘They came back!’

Molly lightly pinched the two littlest ones and gave them a wiggle. ‘Very good. You’re a very brave little boy.’

‘I rescued my daddy.’

‘Did you? How about you tell me all about it over some breakfast?’

Kasen looked back over his shoulder at his father. Draco nodded.

‘Good,’ Molly said, holding her hands out for James and Kasen to help them off the bed. ‘How are you feeling, Draco? I bit sore, I should imagine. I remember when Ron fell foul to that Fanged Geranium. Do you remember, Harry?’ 

Harry nodded emphatically.

‘Nasty business. Anyway, don’t worry about Kasen. He’ll be well looked after. Is there anything I need to know? Any allergies? Bad habits? Naughty tendencies?’ She looked down at Kasen’s grinning face and winked at him.

‘I don’t think so,’ Draco said. ‘Oh, erm, I don’t know how much sleep he’d had, but I suspect not enough.’

‘Say no more. I’ll find somewhere quiet for him to rest. When are you being released?’

Draco realised he didn’t have a clue.

‘Tomorrow,’ Harry said. 

Molly left with a promise to take utmost care of James and Kasen for the next twenty-four hours. Kasen seemed fascinated with her, his mouth hanging continually open like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

‘She’s … colourful, isn’t she?’ Draco said when she’d gone.

Harry draped himself at Draco’s side. ‘You liked her, didn’t you?’ he said, grinning down at him.

‘I certainly did not!’

‘Yeah, you did. I could tell. What’s not to like? She’s lovely. I’d have gone crazy without her.’

‘She looked after you, didn’t she?’

‘She still does. She’ll look after you too, if you let her.’

Draco relaxed into Harry’s side. ‘But I’ve got you.’

They linked hands and Draco said, ‘She didn’t seem surprised that we’re friends.’

Harry laughed quietly. ‘Oh she was surprised alright. I got a right mouthful earlier for not feeling like I could tell her. Other than that, she’s okay with it.’

‘Really? Why?’

Harry shrugged. ‘Because she’s the sort of person that believes in people. She always believed in you, even before I did. It’s only Ron you have to worry about.’

‘Thanks for the reminder.’

‘Don’t worry. He’s easy to get on with once you’ve worked him out. He’s a good bloke. Solid, reliable.’

‘Harry, not meaning to change this extremely riveting subject, but … I don’t suppose you saw Kasen’s fish, did you? He’s going to be so upset when he realises.’

Harry reached behind him and produced a jam jar half-filled with water and two goldfish. 

‘It’s a miracle,’ Draco whispered in absolute awe. ‘How did you find them? How in Merlin’s name are they still alive?’

‘I could ask the same thing about you.’

‘Luck,’ Draco said, ‘and a knight in shining spectacles.’

 

TBC …


	15. Chapter 15

  
Author's notes: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.

* * *

Outside, the clouds were black and rain was falling, cold and heavy. Lightning streaked the sky and thunder rolled over the hospital in booming waves that shook the walls. 

‘I want to Apparate,’ Draco said. He fiddled impatiently with the buttons on his shirt until Harry took pity and did the last three up for him.

‘If you splinch yourself because you’re stressed, you’ll end up right back here,’ Harry warned. ‘There, done. Ready?’

‘I should have thought ahead and hired a car or something. No, I’m not ready. Where did I put all my stuff?’

‘You don’t have any stuff and I already hired a car; it’s waiting outside for us so get a bloody move on.’

Draco nearly melted on the spot. This was so Harry; always thinking of others. He draped his arms around Harry’s neck and kissed him. ‘What would I do without you?’ He tried hard not to shiver when he felt Harry’s hands on his waist, but failed miserably. 

Harry kissed him back, slowly and tenderly, and then said, ‘You’d be really late most of the time. Now are you ready?’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Neither do I,’ Harry said, ‘but we have to.’

Draco stood back and shook his head. ‘You don’t have to. If they see us leave together, the gossip will reach heights never before seen. I’m not prepared to put you and James through that. I won’t have it. I’ll leave first and distract them, and then you can slip out through the … sewer entrance?’

Harry screwed up his nose and, for a split second, it reminded Draco of Kasen. ‘You’re sending me out through the shit?’ Harry said. ‘Thanks _so_ much.’ 

‘It’s that or face the wrath of the _Prophet_. If only there was a way to sneak out. It’s been a long time since I snuck anywhere.’

Harry sat back down on the bed when it was obvious Draco wasn’t going anywhere yet. ‘I used to do a lot of sneaking at Hogwarts,’ he said.

Draco sat down next to him. ‘I know. I was sneaking around after you. Well, except for 6th Year when the tables turned.’

‘It’s a pity we weren’t sneaking together, we would have done a much better job. Same with Quidditch; imagine if we’d been on the same team? We’d have been unbeatable.’

‘Agreed. But you were always the better Seeker – and no, I’ll never admit that again – so what would I have been?’

‘Oh that’s easy,’ Harry said. ‘You’d have made a great Beater.’

Draco got up and went over to the window. It was mid-morning, but the clouds darkened the streets below so it appeared more like a winter’s afternoon. ‘Are you sure? I hardly had the build for a Beater.’

Harry shrugged. ‘What you lacked in brute strength you made up for with sheer spite,’ he said happily. 

‘I still have plenty of that. Spite, I mean. I miss it.’

‘Being spiteful?’

‘No no, I’m still spiteful. I miss Quidditch. Well, actually, not Quidditch. I miss flying.’

‘Me too. I haven’t flown for months.’ Harry got off the bed and put his arms around Draco, resting his chin on Draco’s good shoulder.

‘Try years,’ Draco said. ‘If I thought for a moment that I could hang on to a broom without falling off, I’d send for one. For two.’

Harry was silent and Draco watched the patches of clouds light up with zig-zagging electricity.

‘Do you think you could hold on to me?’ Harry said eventually.

Draco look over his shoulder just as Harry lifted his head. ‘Pardon?’

‘I’ll hold on to the broom and you hold on to me. Do you think your shoulder can cope with it? Honestly?’

‘You want to fly us?’ There was incredulity in Draco’s voice, but not because he didn’t think it was a good idea. He smiled. ‘You would really fly me home?’

‘Yeah. Well, fly you to The Burrow, then we’ll floo back to my place. They’ll probably still see us take off, but at least we won’t have them right in our faces.’

‘But … where would we get a broom?’

Harry grinned. ‘Leave that to me.’

 

*****

 

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was using every ounce of strength he had to crank Draco’s hospital window open.

‘Wherever did you get it?’ Draco said, eyeing up the Nimbus 7000. ‘Is that a new model?’

Harry struggled and strained, went bright red in the face and finally slid the window up with a cry similar to that of a relieved walrus. He straightened his glasses and stepped out onto the ledge. ‘Ground floor. Artifact Accidents. I’ll post it back later.’

‘It looks fast.’

‘It is. Came out last year.’ Harry got on the broom, hovered, and then held out his hand. ‘Coming? I’ll try not to do any loop the loops.’

‘Just promise me one thing,’ Draco said as he gingerly climbed onto the ledge and then onto the back of the broom. ‘Go really fast.’

*****   
__

_The chains were heavy around his wrists, and the skin beneath them was raw and painful. His ankles weren’t fairing any better._

_He didn’t mind. It was the least he deserved._

_Draco sat in total darkness and waited._

__  
*****

 

They soared up to the sky and through the clouds. It was freezing cold and they were drenched in seconds. Lightning flashed in the distance but Draco couldn’t hear the thunder through the rush of the wind and the whoosh of the broom. He squeezed Harry tightly and Harry banked the broom and rushed back down below the clouds.

Draco laughed.

*****   
__

_‘It wasn’t deliberate.’_

_‘How can you be sure of that, Mr Potter?’_

_‘Because I was there. Because it was me he hit. He was aiming at Voldemort.’_

_‘Really? The son of a convicted Death Eater? And let’s not forget his suspected involvement in the death of Albus Dumbledore.’_

_‘He had nothing to do with that. I was there. Draco Malfoy is innocent. He’s not like his father. I’m absolutely willing to vouch for him.’_

_A murmur of sensation, disapproval and disbelief went around the room like a Mexican wave, and Draco dared to look up through his dirty, overgrown fringe._

__  
*****

‘Can’t this old thing go any faster?!’

Harry looked over his shoulder. ‘Sure?’

‘Very.’

They were over Surrey now and Harry dipped the broom and flew low over the houses like a skimming bullet. ‘That was my house,’ Harry said as they flew over three surprised Muggles.

‘How suburban. More speed please.’

Harry flew the broom back up to the clouds, leaving Little Whinging and the storm behind. It was a big one and it would probably hit Winchester later, but for now there was no rain and, most importantly, no lightning.

‘Are you cold?’ Draco asked.

‘Freezing,’ Harry said, not sounding particularly bothered by it. 

‘Are you sure you don’t want to do a loopy thing?’

‘Can you hold on?’

‘Absolutely.’ 

Draco pressed himself against Harry’s back again, and then Harry covered his hands with one of his own. Then the broom banked left and spun sideways. Draco whooped and Harry laughed. 

‘We’re being really childish, you know?’ Harry said.

‘I don’t care. Do it again.’

So Harry did. 

****   
__

_‘Those in favour of conviction?’_

_The chains binding Draco’s emaciated wrists tinkled and clinked. He threaded his fingers together and looked up at Harry Potter. He blocked out the murmurs and the raising hands and instead tried to figure out what Potter was up to, what he was trying to achieve – why he believed._

_‘… cleared of all charges.’_

_Draco flinched, shocked and unprepared for the belief that surrounded him. He looked at the pale faces around the Courtroom and saw pity, and when he looked back at Potter, he was gone._

__  
****

 

They stayed high in the sky over Winchester then dipped down low over Salisbury, Shaftsbury and Yeovil. 

The broom slowed down then and Harry turned his head. ‘You okay?’

Draco nodded against Harry’s shoulder. ‘Very okay.’

‘Your shoulder?’

‘Hurts like buggery.’

Harry took it easy from then on, keeping the broom level and at a steady speed. The wind still rushed at them, and a fine veil of rain spattered them and kept them just a little bit wet. 

‘This is it,’ Harry said sometime later as they flew over Ottery St Catchpole. ‘Oh shit.’

‘Oh shit what?’ Draco looked down. ‘Merlin’s Y-fronts, what on earth is that monstrosity?’

‘Oi, don’t be a bitch. That’s The Burrows. I was talking about the photographers surrounding it.’

Draco looked down again. ‘Oh shit.’

‘I guess it wasn’t hard for them to work out.’

‘Please tell me they don’t know about Kasen?’

Harry didn’t answer him. He aimed the broomstick downwards and cranked up the speed. ‘I’ll get us close to the door.’

They landed with thump and Draco winced at the pain in his shoulder and leg. The cameras flashed and Draco kept his head down, his long hair obscuring his face. The front door opened and several hands pulled them inside.

‘Harry, good to see you!’ Fred and George said together. ‘Not sure about you yet, Malfoy,’ Fred added. ‘But I’m sure we’ll come to love you just like a favourite pet scorpion,’ George finished.

‘Ignore them,’ Harry said. ‘They’re trying to wind you up.’

‘DADDY!’ Kasen rushed across the room and Draco squatted down to catch him. ‘I missed you loads, Daddy. I’ve been playing with pond weed!’

Draco held him tightly. ‘I missed you too. Is that why you smell so bad?’

Kasen grinned up at him and nodded. 

‘I love you so much, Kasen,’ Draco whispered to him.

‘I love you too. Do you want to see my toes again?’

‘Ah, there you are,’ Mrs Weasley said, hands on her hips and a stern look upon her face. 

Draco stood.

‘What on _earth_ were you both thinking? The stupidity of it! Dislocated shoulder, broken collar bone, concussion, _skewered_ calf muscle no less, and there you both are dashing about on a racing broom like a couple of village idiots. And the rain! You could have been struck by lightning, fried to a crisp!’ She stopped there and looked at Draco for a response.]

‘Um,’ was all he managed.

‘Well, never mind now. It’s done. Come and have some lunch.’

‘Sorry, Molly,’ Harry said.

‘I’ll give you sorry in a minute, young man,’ Mrs Weasley said with a fierce pointing finger. ‘You should know better. Now sit down.’

There was a tugging at Draco’s trousers and when he looked down, James was grinning back up at him.

‘You got told off,’ James said, like it was big news. Then he held his arms out and Draco picked him up.

‘You seem heavier,’ Draco said. ‘What have you been eating?’

‘Everything!’

They sat down at the kitchen table, Mr Weasley joining them at the head. It was a long, old fashioned, wooden affair with uneven legs and plenty of splinters. There was ample food on the table. Salad, cold meats, bread and soup and something in a two-foot-long roasting tin that Draco couldn’t identify; he felt a little afraid of it.

‘Daddy,’ Kasen said from on top of a large cushion on the chair next to Draco. ‘Can I sleep in James’s room?’

Aware that they hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements in any great detail, Draco felt rather uncomfortable. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay with Harry; it was just an awkward situation considering their romantic involvement and that fact that everyone in Harry’s life hated Draco’s guts.

‘Of course you can,’ Harry said. ‘You and James can argue over who gets to sleep on the blow-up bed.’

‘Does it really blow up?’ James asked. ‘Boom.’

Harry stuffed a slice of turkey into his mouth. ‘Yep,’ he said around the mouthful.

Both boys gasped and shouted. ‘I WANT TO!’

Ron and Hermione joined them at the table, both of them casting Draco a suspicious glance.

‘Oh look, the whole clan is here,’ Draco said, just because he couldn’t help it.

Ron picked up one of the larger loaves and ripped it in two. ‘Feeling better? Shame that.’

‘Ron,’ Harry said quietly. ‘Don’t.’

‘He started it,’ Ron muttered.

Hermione cleared her throat and leaned on the table in a gesture that would have been casual if it wasn’t for the poker straight back and clenched hands. ‘So, what have you been up to, Draco. It’s been … awhile.’

‘You know, this and that. Not much.’

‘Oh. Good. Well, that’s nice. Erm, Ron and I are married now.’

‘How thrilling for you. I suppose it was inevitable.’

Harry frowned at him and Ron straightened defensively. 

‘And you all live here, I take it? All together.’ Believe it or not, Draco was trying to be nice. It was just that being nasty was his default setting and trying to switch to another was a struggle, especially with the _boof!_ of the camera flashes just outside the closed curtains distracting him. 

‘That’s right.’ Mr Weasley said. ‘We added another floor just last year. That’s eight now.’

Draco nodded. ‘Forgive me, but … it seems a little crooked.’

Harry winced, Kasen and James giggled and Ron threw his lump of bread back onto his plate.

‘It does sway in the breeze somewhat,’ Mrs Weasley said in a stage whisper, unaware that there was any sort of problem at the table.

Draco nodded. ‘It’s all to do with the distribution of magic. I suspect you have an even covering from the top to the bottom, when what you need is a denser quantity at the bottom to secure the structure.’

‘Listen to the expert,’ George said, hooking his thumb Draco’s way.

‘We don’t need your input, Malfoy,’ Ron said. ‘There’s nothing wrong with this house.’

‘No, there’s nothing wrong with this house,’ Kasen parroted. ‘I like it, Daddy. Seesawing is fun!’

Mrs Weasley laughed like that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard and Fred ruffled Kasen’s hair.

‘Just like his father,’ Fred said. 

‘But the barbs are funnier,’ George added. ‘Come back anytime, Kasen.’

‘Thank you,’ Kasen said, and then aimed a spoonful of soup at his mouth and dribbled most of it down himself. It was lucky he was wearing what seemed to be a huge white sheet tucked in at the neck, just as James was too.

The meal continued at an awkward pace, Draco putting his foot in it every few minutes. It was sheer hell and when the time came to leave, Draco felt like crying with relief.

The four of them crammed into the Weasley’s fireplace and said their final goodbyes. James made everyone come and kiss him one last time and then Harry threw a large handful of floo power and took them home – to his home.

It was dark when they stepped out of the fireplace at four o’clock. Harry switched on the lights as quickly as possible – mostly to stop the boys from making ghost noises – and headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

There were several boxes stacked in the corner and Draco peered into them. Clothes, shoes, toiletries and teddies. These were obviously the things Fred and George had Portkeyed back from the house while Harry was keeping him company. Draco wasn’t sure how he felt about anyone going through his stuff, never mind a Weasley.

Draco turned at the tap on his shoulder and accepted the offered mug of tea.

‘Thank you,’ he said after awhile. ‘For letting us stay. You didn’t have to. I could find a hotel for a while and then rent—’

‘I want you to stay here. With me.’

‘It’ll be months, you know. There was a lot of damage. I could probably fix it with magic, but it’s a listed building and I don’t want to interfere with the Muggle ways. It has to be done properly.’

‘I don’t care how long it takes. You’re always welcome here, you and Kasen, of course. James is chuffed to bits.’

Draco smiled at that. ‘Speaking of the little scallywags, where are they?’

‘Upstairs attempting to inflate Kasen’s bed with just the power of their lungs.’ Harry sipped at his tea. ‘They’ll never do it without the pump, but it’ll keep them quiet for awhile.’

‘Don’t be so sure,’ Draco said, getting to his feet and following Harry to the sofa. ‘Kasen is a very determined little boy.’

‘So I gathered.’

‘Do you think I should be worried, Harry? About what he said? Another Dark Wizard in the family makes me feel a bit ill.’ 

Harry thought about it for a moment, then he looked Draco straight in the eye and said, ‘No, he’s a good boy, and as long as he’s got you to see him right, he’ll be just fine. Powerful doesn’t necessarily mean Dark.’

‘But it can mean that. Just look at …Voldemort. Look at my father. Look at me. What if Kasen turns out like me, like the old me?’

Harry shook his head. ‘That’s not going to happen. You’re doing everything right—’

‘Not everything,’ Draco interrupted. ‘I’m denying him his heritage. What happens if I stifle his magic?’

‘By not letting him go to a magical school?’

Draco nodded.

‘I don’t know. Just … it doesn’t have to be Hogwarts, okay? There are other schools, more low key schools that are just as good if not so famous.’

‘Is that what you’re thinking for James?’

‘Maybe. It’s worth considering, don’t you think?’

It was worth considering. Draco thought perhaps there was a school somewhere in Arizona, for a start, and the fact that he wasn’t sure proved beyond a doubt that it was low key. But the problem was how long it would remain low key if he sent his son there.

‘Don’t worry about it now,’ Harry said, getting up. ‘We’ve got a long time yet.’

‘Yes, absolutely. Maybe they could go together?’

Harry smiled at him. ‘I think they would like that.’

 

*****

 

There was another problem that Draco was dreading and it involved his own sleeping arrangements. On one hand, he desperately wanted to sleep with Harry, to lie next to him and feel Harry’s breath on his neck and Harry’s hands on his body. But on the other hand, he was worried about the children. He wasn’t even entirely sure if Kasen and James understood the differences between adults who were friends and adults who were more than that. 

‘I do want to be with you,’ he finally blurted several hours later, ‘but maybe we should explain to them first, before anything happens and they just happen to walk in on us snogging or being all touchy-feely or whispering sweet nothings to each other.’

Harry looked up from his magazine in surprise. ‘That’s been building up for a while, hasn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ Draco said, sitting down next to him. ‘What do you think?’

Harry sighed and put the magazine to one side. He ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up. Draco patted it back down again.

‘I think you’re probably right. Spare room okay with you?’ Harry asked, his voice tinged with worry.

‘It’ll be fine. Besides, the kids are in bed now. So there’s no reason we can’t … you know. Just a bit. I haven’t thanked you yet for saving me,’ Draco said, sidling closer and dropping his voice to a whisper.

Harry watched Draco’s hands smooth over his t-shirt. ‘I would say there’s no need to thank me but I think in this case that would be incredibly stupid.’

‘And you’re not as stupid as you look.’

‘Exactly,’ Harry said, tilting his head as Draco lightly brushed his lips over his neck. ‘Wait a sec, did you just insult me?’ 

Draco kissed him.

 

TBC …


	16. Chapter 16

  
Author's notes: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.  


* * *

November crawled into December and Draco awoke with a terrific gasp. Only twenty five days until Christmas and he hadn’t even _started_ his Christmas shopping!

Draco scrambled out of bed and sprinted down the stairs, jumping down the last three and landing with a thump at the bottom. 

‘Jesus, what’s wrong?’ Harry said, standing quickly and looking concerned.

Draco put his hands on his hips. ‘Why do you keep calling me that?’ 

‘Pardon?’

‘Never mind. Harry, do you know what date it is?’

Harry shrugged. ‘November the—’

‘ _December_ the first,’ Draco interrupted. ‘Have you started your Christmas shopping?’

‘Nope.’

‘Have you bought your Christmas cards?’

‘Nope.’

‘Wrapping paper perhaps?’

‘Nope.’

‘Goodness, Harry, you really are useless.’

‘And how much of the above have you done?’

‘Not the point,’ Draco said, looking suitably offended. ‘My house fell down on me, after all.’ He crossed his arms and brushed his ruby red pompom slippers over Harry’s living room carpet. ‘I had nice carpets once.’ 

‘Fine! I take it you want to start now.’

‘Yes please,’ Draco said softly, draping his arms around Harry’s neck and kissing him tenderly.

Harry closed his eyes and smiled dreamily. ‘Okay then,’ he said.

‘Good! I’ll shower and dress, you make the breakfast, get the kids ready, get yourself ready, go and put petrol in the car so we don’t lose time on the journey, put the rubbish out and would you kindly pop down the road and tell your Merlin-awful neighbour to shut her bloody dog up. It’s giving me the most terrible headache.’ 

‘I think that might be the caffeine,’ Harry muttered.

‘Don’t be cheeky. You know you love me really.’

They both froze, like a paused scene from a film or a pair of mismatched manikins in a shop window.

‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ Draco said. ‘You might be right about the caffeine. Sorry.’

‘That’s okay,’ Harry said quietly and with the hint of a smile. ‘You don’t have to be sorry. But I am cutting off your Dr Pepper supply.’

‘Fair enough.’

Draco showered and tried not to worry about his little slip up. Instead he enjoyed the heat of the water on his skin and thought about what Christmas would be like this year. 

Christmas with Harry.

Draco smiled and felt warmed from the inside out, like he’d just eaten a huge spoonful of porridge and it was hearting every part of him. All he needed now was Harry in his arms and some Christmas music playing on the stereo.

‘Driving home for Christmas,’ he sang as he near enough floated into the living room with a piece of toast twenty minutes later. ‘Harry, do you have any Christmas music?’

‘No.’

‘Oh. Well, not to panic. Luckily I do. We’ll swing by my house on the way back from …’ Draco paused mid sentence and regarded Harry and the children with a speculative look. ‘Why are you lined up like a line of festive soldiers out for a stroll in the snow?’ he asked, eyeing up their full winter gear which included bobble hats, mittens, and scarves that buried Harry and absolutely swamped the children.

‘We’re waiting for you,’ Harry said in his most patient voice, the one he usually reserved for occasions when Draco just couldn’t grasp the importance of holding his tongue.

‘What on earth for?’

‘We’re going shopping?’ Now Harry sounded positively chirpy.

Draco rolled his eyes and waved them away with his toast, spilling crumbs into the air. ‘ _After_ I’ve written the list.’

Harry sighed, the children groaned and then James said, ‘Drat,’ a phrase he’d picked up from Draco the week before and now used at every opportunity. 

‘It’ll only take a minute,’ Draco said, so everyone went back to what they’d been doing before Draco got up.

An hour and a half later, the list was finished and they bundled into the car. It was a cold day and there were still patches of frost on the ground, and ice on the window that Harry had a lovely time trying to scrape off.

‘Will it snow?’ Kasen asked.

‘Not today,’ Harry answered. ‘It’s too cold.’

Kasen and James spent the majority of the car journey trying to figure that out. 

The journey into Winchester Town Centre wasn’t a long one, but the traffic was terrible. They sat stationary for fifteen minutes at one point and Kasen sung Frosty the Snowman to provide entertainment as the radio wasn’t working and Harry didn’t have any CDs in the glove box which were deemed festive enough.

‘Do you and James have a real tree each year?’ Draco asked.

‘No, we’ve got a plastic one. It’s really nice actually. It’s got—’

‘I beg your pardon?! Harry Potter, I’m _Dis_ gusted! Plastic? _Plastic?_ ’

‘Granny has a real one,’ James said helpfully.

The traffic crawled on and it soon became clear that the Potter household would be accommodating a real Christmas tree this year. James cheered and clapped and Kasen broke into an out-of-tune version of a Cliff Richard Christmas classic, albeit a few differences including ‘Dogs on the fire and gimps on the tree,’ and, ‘A time for forgetting, a time for … uh …erm … what comes next, Daddy?’

Ten minutes later Draco discovered the reason for the slow traffic. He sat up in his seat to get a better look. A little blue car lay sprawled on its side and beside it stood an embarrassed looking young woman with a long brunette ponytail and puffy red eyes. She was talking into her mobile and smiling.

‘Drat,’ James said.

‘Is that what you did to Uncle Harry’s car?’ Kasen asked, peering through the window as best he could from his seat on the other side.

‘I think she’s alright,’ Harry whispered.

‘No, I did not,’ Draco said, acknowledging Harry with a nod first and then looking back between the front seats. ’I’m a very careful and distinguished learner.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, ‘he only backs into the finest of lampposts.’

Draco sulked the rest of the way.

It was only December 1st but Winchester Town Centre was heaving. The four of them tried to hold hands – the kids in the middle – but it was only possible outside. 

As usual the town was elegantly decorated, strings of tiny golden lights hanging from one side of the cobbled street to the other and a giant fur tree at the top of the street draped with gold lanterns and a magnificent silver star perched on the top. 

Considering Draco’s list had taken and hour and a half to write and was easily a foot long, the shopping didn’t take long.

Only four hours.

It was a record. 

‘I feel like I’ve been to the gym,’ Harry said while he helped Draco pack the bags in the boot. 

‘This is nothing.’ Draco kissed his cheek and slid one of the smaller bags into a convenient gap at the side. ‘Just wait until we start on the presents.’

‘Oh my god.’ Harry ducked out of the boot and shut it with a _clump._ ‘How much do you buy Kasen?’

Draco was puzzled. Was a silly question. ‘Whatever he wants. And this year I have you and James to buy for.’ And Draco already had a list in his head of what to get Harry, which included a laptop, an iphone, a pair of incredibly sexy jeans Draco was just dying to see Harry in, and some products which would hopefully do something about the mad hair – make the best of it, seeing as it was never going to fall like a normal person’s hair should.

‘My house, Harry, don’t forget,’ Draco suddenly said in the car on the way home. ‘I want to get my Christmas CDs,’ he added when Harry looked at him like he’d sprouted a second and a third head.

The frost was all gone now but it was still cold and now it was also dark. But it wasn’t dark enough to miss the lurking figures at the corner of Draco’s road. Harry slammed on the breaks and they skidded to a sudden halt.

‘Harry, turn around.’ 

But Harry was already reversing and swinging the car around.

‘They found me,’ Draco whispered while James and Kasen sang, ‘Wheeeee!’ as the car turned and several men and Reeta Skeeter ran towards them, notepads flapping in the air and cameras flashing.

‘How did they find me?’

Harry shook his head. ‘I don’t know. The Fidelius Charm can’t be working.’

‘Maybe not, but how did they know where to look in the first place? It’s not like I sent up a flare.’

Harry put the car into first and slammed his foot on the accelerator. The tires skidded and screeched and they pulled away with a jolt.

‘Don’t panic,’ Harry said. And then he didn’t say anything, which Draco was grateful for because there wasn’t much more to say.

They pulled up in Harry’s driveway in silence and Harry let the children inside while Draco started unpacking the car.

‘Hello, Draco.’

Draco dropped a bag of twinkle lights and baubles and spun around, wand out. ‘ _Stupify!_ ’

Draco squinted at the man who was now lying halfway across the road. ‘Oh shit.’

‘What the hell just happened?’ Harry said, running back out the door with his wand out. 

Draco didn’t answer him and instead ran across the road to help his victim stand. ‘Severus, I’m so sorry.’

‘Why, Draco, did you feel that was necessary?’ Severus said, dusting himself down, which was impossible, so he _Scourgified_ instead. 

‘You surprised me! Oh Severus, there are reporters crawling all around my house. What am I going to do? How can I ever go back there? How did they find me? Wait … you must have told them.’

If at all possible, Severus’s expression hardened. ‘I beg your pardon? How dare you.’

‘Well then who else was it?! It wasn’t Harry and it certainly wasn’t me!’

Harry put his hand on Draco’s shoulder. ‘Draco, calm down.’

‘I won’t! Who did this, Harry?! Who told them?! The Weasleys. It must have been the Weasleys.’

‘Uncle Severusssss!’ Kasen called from the front step.

‘Wait there, Kasen. Severus, how did you find Harry’s house?’

Harry’s hand slipped from Draco’s shoulder, and Draco felt its loss like an abandonment. 

‘That’s a bloody good point,’ Harry said. ‘Is the Fidelius Charm just not working today or what?’

Severus peered down at them both with obvious distaste. ‘The Fidelius Charm,’ he said, addressing Harry, ‘is rendered useless if sufficient structural damage is done to a property. _That_ is how the _Prophet_ were able to track down Draco’s house.’

‘That doesn’t make sense,’ Draco said, lifting his chin. ‘How would they know where to look?’

‘Someone at St Mungo’s has a big mouth. It didn’t take long for the _Prophet_ to find out that you’d been injured when a tree fell down on your house. All they had to do was scour the local Muggle newspapers and there you were on the front page of the _Winchester Life_.’

‘I was in the newspaper?’ Draco asked.

‘Your house was. With a large Leylandii sticking out of the side. Rather conspicuous, don’t you think?’

‘Daddy!’ Kasen wandered out onto the damp driveway in just his indoor clothes and his socks.

‘GET BACK INSIDE IMEDIATELY!’ Draco bellowed. There had been a headache tingling at the back of his head and now it was starting to throb.

Kasen’s bottom lip wobbled, then he screwed his face up and burst into tears. Draco put his hands over his face and felt like doing the same. 

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to shout,’ Draco said to his hastily retreating son.

‘You hate me!’ Kasen shouted.

‘I don’t!’

‘You do! You hate me and you wish I was DEAD! I only wanted to give Uncle Severusss a present!’ Then Kasen turned and ran back into the house, dropping a Chocolate Orange on the ground behind him.

Draco chased him inside, leaving Harry and Severus outside looking stunned. He caught Kasen about halfway up the stairs and carried him the rest of the way, his son squirming, crying and gasping all the way. 

‘I’m sorry, Kasen,’ Draco said, putting him down on James’s bed. ‘I love you. I didn’t mean to snap. I just didn’t want you outside without your coat and shoes. You’ll catch cold. And look at your socks, all dirty now. I’ve told you before about wandering about with no shoes. What if there was a piece of glass on the ground and you cut your toes off?’

Kasen brightened at that, which wasn’t quite the point, but Draco was grateful anyway. He took off Kasen’s socks and got a new pair out of the top drawer of the dresser, which was now designated Kasen’s underwear and pyjama drawer.

‘Do you forgive me, Kasen?’

Kasen gave him a truly dirty look and then turned away. ‘Don’t like it when you shout.’

‘I don’t shout often, though, do I?’

Reluctantly, Kasen shook his head. 

‘And you think I wish you dead? How could you say such a thing?’

‘Don’t know,’ Kasen muttered.

‘Is that something you heard at school or do you really believe it? Or perhaps you wish _me_ dead?’

Kasen’s head snapped back around. ‘No! No, Daddy! I love you!’

‘And I love you. Shall we forget all about this, then?’ Draco asked calmly and with absolute calculation.

‘Yes please. I’m sorry.’ 

Kasen held his arms out and Draco cuddled him tightly. He hummed him a little Christmas tune, stroked his hair and then changed his socks and tickled his feet. 

‘Who’s that funny man, Uncle Draco?’ James asked from the doorway. He was hovering slightly and looking unsure if he wanted to come into the bedroom or wait outside.

‘Uncle Severus,’ Kasen said, and then he remembered the Chocolate Orange.

‘We have more,’ Draco assured him. He took both children’s hands and led them down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Harry and Severus were sat in silence at opposite ends of the sofa looking decidedly uncomfortable. Draco ignored both of them for the moment and instead fetched Kasen a new Chocolate Orange from the top cupboard and then a bag of chocolate coins because James decided he also wanted to give a present.

‘I should get the frozen stuff in,’ Harry declared after the presentation, and then went outside, car keys jangling from his fingers.

‘Why did you not come to me, Draco?’ Severus asked.

‘I don’t understand.’ The children had started on a giant-sized floor puzzle so Draco was free to talk.

‘I had to find out you’d been injured from the _Prophet._ It was not how I would have expected to be informed.’

There wasn’t much he could say to that, but Draco being Draco, tried anyway. ‘I … I wasn’t well enough.’

‘You could have sent an owl.’

‘I no longer have one.’ 

‘You could have sent Potter.’

‘He doesn’t know where you live. And he’d have got lost if I’d told him.’

Severus nodded slowly. ‘I see. You didn’t wish me to know.’

Draco was silent. He stared down at his shoes and at the little red jam stain James had left on the carpet from the day before. ‘I didn’t want to be a bother to anyone else.’

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Severus said shortly. ‘I doubt very much Potter sees you like that, and I certainly don’t. Or is it that you don’t want to be bothered with me?’

Draco’s head snapped up. ‘No! Of course not! Actually, I was going to come and see you, but I kept thinking that you might get sick of me.’

Severus sniffed. ‘I thought perhaps you were sick of me.’

‘Christ, Slytherins are hard work,’ Harry muttered as he passed them by laden with bags for the third time.

Draco smiled up at him, then frowned back at Severus, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘How did you find Harry’s house?’

‘Gimme!’ James screeched while Kasen held up a big piece of jigsaw puzzle with half a pig on it. Kasen ran for it and James chased him, both boys laughing and screaming.

‘Simple,’ Severus said, ‘Wherever there is a Malfoy, there is a Potter lurking nearby.’

 

*****

 

‘I think we should talk to them,’ Draco announced five days later.

‘Hmm? Okay.’

‘You’re not listening to me, are you?’

‘Yeah.’

Draco sighed and sat down next to Harry on the sofa. Harry had been distracted for days now, walking around in a light daze, constantly frowning at anything that was put in front of him.

‘Please don’t worry,’ Draco said, removing a book from Harry’s hands and putting it down on the coffee table. 

‘I’m not worrying.’

‘You are. You’re worried about the press. You’re worried they’ll find us – find you. I understand. I just wish you’d talk about it, talk to me. I know I’m an insensitive git, but I do care.’ 

And then he reached out and hugged Harry as hard as he could, squeezing him like a vice crushing a frightened mouse. ‘See, Harry? This is how much I care.’

‘Enough to make my eyeballs pop out?’ Harry said, sounding half breathless and half amused.

‘Exactly.’ Draco pulled him down and rolled them both onto the floor. ‘Children!’ he called. ‘Come and squeeze Harry to show him how much we care!’

The children bolted down the stairs and dashed across the room like two little whippets. With a cries of ‘Geronimo!’ and ‘Cowabunga!’ they launched themselves at Harry, and squashed and squeezed him.

It was fun, and it continued to be fun until James projectile vomited down Harry’s shirt. Draco mysteriously disappeared at that point and Harry eventually tracked him down hiding in the loft space. 

‘What are you doing up there?’

‘James told me you have a special star for the tree. I’m assuming it’s up here with the rest of your crap. OH MY GOD!’ Draco hurried across the beams and dropped back down onto the landing.

‘Are you okay?’ Harry asked, standing well back while Draco flailed and patted himself down in manner that could only be considered manic.

‘Finefinefine. I’m fine.’ He brushed at his left arm, bent over and fluffed his hair. ‘There was a spider. Big bugger, too. Goodness. I might have to fetch Kasen.’

‘You get Kasen to catch spiders for you?’

‘He’s very good at it. I taught him from a young age, you see. I had to show him there was nothing to be afraid of. Is it on me?!’

Harry twirled him around and brushed at his jumper. ‘It’s just a cobweb.’

Harry took Draco back downstairs and made him a strong cup of tea. Then he went to the loft and retrieved the star himself.

‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘What an earth for?’ Draco asked.

‘For being a miserable git.’

Draco waved him away. ‘It’s okay. I know you can’t help it.’

They smirked at each other.

‘Shall we go and find a tree, then? I think James wants to put his star on.’ Draco looked down at the bent and crooked star with its peeling paint and sorry-looking wonky tips. ‘Oh dear Merlin. We’ll have to do something about that.’

 

*****

 

It was dark by the time they arrived back home, Christmas tree strapped to the top of the car and Harry covered head to toe in needles.

The children were ultra excited and Draco put them to work immediately on the poor dilapidated star. Gold paint, shiny stickers and plenty of glitter were spread out across the newspaper-covered kitchen table. 

Meanwhile, Harry and Draco positioned the tree, and decorated the room with garlands and candles and paper lanterns. Strings of bells hung from the mantelpiece and crystal snowflakes draped the windows. A fibre optic twig tree sat beside the sofa, a snoring Santa rested upon the sideboard and a Crazy Christmas Tree broke into song every twenty minutes. Rope lights climbed the banister and tangled with delicate garlands of real holly. Golden Cherubs guarded the bookcase and a plastic reindeer stood at the bottom with a big cheesy grin and a flashing red nose.

‘It’s a good job I don’t offend easily,’ Draco said while he regarded the room with a sausage roll in his hand and shock plastered all over his face.

‘We’re finished!’ Kasen called, waving a sticky star in the air and dropping glitter everywhere. He and James ran into the room but stopped short before they got halfway. 

‘It’s a grotto!’ James said.

‘I’m not sure what to make of it,’ Kasen said seriously, handing the star to Harry. He walked calmly over to the reindeer and poked it. ‘Hmm.’

‘He’s like you when you’re choosing plums in Sainsburys,’ Harry whispered.

Kasen moved on to the Crazy Christmas Tree. It abruptly woke up and yelled _‘Rockin’ around the Christmas tree …!’_ Kasen screamed and backed up fast, thumping into the back of the sofa. He turned wide, surprised eyes to his father, and pointed back at the tree.

‘Oh, it’s all right, Kasen, don’t be—’

‘Funny!’ Then he started laughing in the way only children and drunk relatives could. 

‘I think perhaps we overdid the sugar,’ Draco whispered to Harry later when they were all decorating the tree.

The children had started decorating with gusto, but after a few tries they soon discovered the tree was too sharp. So they relaxed on the sofa and directed the proceedings in comfort. 

‘Up, up, up, up,’ James said, and Harry moved a glittering red bauble slowly up.

‘Left, left, left, left, no, Daddy! Left!’

‘This is left,’ Harry said with an impressive amount of patience.

‘Oh. Other left, other left, other left, stop! Down, down, down, down …’

And on it went until the tree was positively crammed full of mismatched baubles and ribbons, plastic trumpets and hanging chocolates, miniature crackers and little red stockings filled with yummy treats. 

Harry lifted James up and James placed the star on the top of the tree. Then they switched on the tree lights and watched the red light chase the yellow which chased the green which chased the orange, round and round. The Crazy Christmas Tree broke into song again and everyone sat down on the sofa to recover. 

‘I’m kidnapping its batteries,’ Draco said. 

 

*****

 

Draco studied the front page of the _Prophet._

_Potter, Gay and Shacked up with Death Eater?_

‘I wasn’t a Death Eater,’ Draco muttered. 

‘Daddy.’

‘Yes.’ The _Prophet_ didn’t know what it was talking about. They had no idea. Okay, fine, so they were more or less spot on this time, but they made it all sound so sordid, and it made Draco realise that he was running out of time. The question wasn’t whether they found out about Kasen, it was when.

‘Daddy, will you come upstairs?’

Draco looked up at the quiet, hesitant voice. ‘Kasen, what’s wrong?’

Kasen clenched his hands together, his little fingers shaking and his eyes filling with tears. ‘Wizzy’s gone funny.’

‘Funny?’

Kasen nodded and a tear rolled down one cheek. 

‘What sort of funny?’ Draco asked, kneeling in front of his son and putting his arms around him.

‘Don’t know.’

‘Is he … floating?’

They held hands and Kasen led him to the tank. 

‘Oh dear,’ Draco said.

‘Will he wake up?’

Draco knelt again and kissed the top of Kasen’s head. ‘No. I’m sorry.’

Kasen cried. 

They held the funeral about an hour later. They all dressed up in their smartest clothes and Harry carried Wizzy’s body in a little shoebox filled with silver tinsel and glitter. A big gold and red bow adorned the top. 

Draco placed the casket in a hole under a newly planted rose, and covered it over using a trowel. Kasen wanted to say a few words, but he couldn’t get them all out, despite James’s sniffly attempts to help him. Draco didn’t fare much better so the responsibility fell to Harry to tell the congregation, which consisted of two adults, two children, two teddies and a cardboard fairy, what a wonderful fish Wizzy had been and how sorely he would be missed.

‘Drat,’ James said. 

 

*****

 

Christmas Eve was a terribly exciting affair. Kasen and James were wound up beyond all normal realms and getting them to go to bed and stay there was difficult to say the least. 

‘Quiet at last,’ Harry said. He poured small amounts of red wine into two huge wine glasses.

‘Apart from the snoring,’ Draco said, referring to the slumbering sideboard Santa. ‘Cheers.’ 

They clinked their glassed together and drank to Christmas, to Kasen and James, Father Christmas and to the future. 

‘I wish you’d come to Molly’s.’

Draco shook his head. ‘We have Christmas Day together. I don’t want to upset your Boxing Day, too.’

Harry frowned at him. ‘You’re not upsetting anything.’

‘Are you telling me Molly Weasley was thrilled at the prospect of not seeing her Grandson on Christmas Day?’

‘Uh, well, no.’

‘There you go, then. You and James should go to the Weasley’s on Boxing Day and you’ll all have a fabulous time. Kasen and I will be fine. We’ll take a nice long walk and have another roast dinner, watch some Christmas films and then have a Mega Christmas Nap. Perfect.’

‘Maybe next year?’

Draco’s heart clenched. Next year? A whole year from now? 

‘Draco? Your silence, for once, isn’t becoming.’

‘I think that next year,’ Draco said, ‘we should consider different Christmas decor. I feel like kicking that Crazy Christmas Tree; I think it’s the Brazilian accent. They couldn’t make an English one?’

Harry smiled and then somehow they were kissing, gently at first, then deeper, faster, hands starting to touch and heartbeats hammering.

Harry pulled away just far enough to speak. ‘Timing, timing, if there is ever a night the kids are going interrupt, it’s going to be tonight.’

‘You bloody started it,’ Draco whispered, breathless, and then he kissed Harry again and pushed him onto his back, amongst the cushions and the last minute wrapping paper. 

‘Ever feel like we’ve been making excuses?’ Harry asked. Draco nodded. ‘Should we stop doing that?’

Draco picked his wand up from the coffee table and pointed it at the banister. He muttered a spell and smiled at the wispy orange light that twirled from his wand and floated up the stairs.

‘Perimeter alert,’ he said. ‘We’ll know if they step a foot out of bed.’

Santa snored and the Reindeer flashed his little red nose, and Draco ignored them. He dropped his wand as Harry’s hand found his and their lips touched again. 

Draco had spent a great deal of time worrying about this moment, tormenting himself that it would somehow go wrong, that it would be as painful with Harry as it was so long ago, that it wouldn’t feel as right as it did now. 

Harry’s fingers brushed Draco’s throat, touched and traced the skin before lips replaced them, tasting and whispering kisses.

Slow, slow, slowly, shirts came off and shoes hit the floor. Trousers and legs tangled and socks were accidentally forgotten, and Draco and Harry leaned their foreheads together and laughed.

Glistening skin, fast breaths and hands starting to scrabble. Harry submitted and Draco fought to keep control of himself before he’d even started. Shaking, he held Harry, burying his face in his neck and waiting out the urge to run cheering for the finishing line.

Then Harry started to move beneath him, and Draco got on with it, stretching and petting until Harry was a heavy, sated mass beneath him, pliable and vulnerable.

The tree lights chased each other and the sofa creaked and creaked. Draco felt like he could barely hold on, like his soul would shatter if this was all some cruel and wonderful dream. But then Harry’s fingers dug into his back and his teeth sank into Draco’s shoulder, and Draco came. 

Out of breath and fully awake, Draco braced his arms over Harry and looked down in awe. Harry was beautiful; Harry was his.

‘Harry …’

‘Mmm?’ Harry said, his eyes closed but his hands still moving over Draco’s shoulders and neck. When Draco didn’t answer, Harry opened his eyes and looked up. 

‘I …’

Harry waited, then smiled.

Draco smiled back. ‘That was much better than last time.’

Harry hit him with a cushion. 

 

*****

_Silence. Darkness. Nothing._

_A House-elf Apparated with a candle and cast the only glow in Draco’s world. ‘Young Master Malfoy is early. We didn’t expect you until tomorrow.’_

_That was more than he expected. The Manor his and his father’s House-elves still working._

_‘Your bedroom is just as you left it,’ the House-elf said when Draco said nothing. ‘Shall Twinkles run you a bath?’_

_‘Yes. And I’d like some food.’_

_‘Of course, the kitchen will prepare a feast for you, Master Malfoy Sir.’_

_‘Just a sandwich. Cheese.’_

_The bedroom was lit all around with red and gold candles, and light and warmth spilled from the roaring fireplace. He knelt as close to it as he could and closed his eyes. The House-elves popped in and out, whispering and fussing, panic in their voices and haste in their footsteps. Draco smelled cheese and opened his eyes to find his sandwich sitting next to him on his mother’s best china._

_‘Master Malfoy’s bath is ready, Sir. Would you like anything else? Sweets, or there’s lemon meringue pie—’_

_‘Just leave me.’_

_‘Yes, Sir, very good, Master Malfoy Sir. Merry Christmas, Sir.’_

_Draco hugged his knees and felt the walls close in._

 

*****

 

By seven o’clock Christmas morning, Harry’s living room resembled a gift-wrapped pile of rubble. James had installed himself slap-bang in front of the TV with a Scooby-Doo game, while Kasen and Archibald sat by his side with a large blue rat in a chefs hat, and a toy Post Office – Kasen was being very strict about the sale of stamps; that rat’s letter was going nowhere.

In the kitchen, Harry was entertaining himself with a frantic round on his Bop It Extreme 2 while he was waiting for the potatoes to parboil, and Draco was writing in leather-bound journal.

‘Fuck!’ Harry hissed. ‘I hate this thing.’

Draco grinned without looking up. ‘Hm?’

‘What were you thinking, buying me this?’

‘I was thinking you needed something in the house that was more irritating than me.’

Harry checked the door way and leaned over for a kiss. ‘There are plenty of things more irritating than you,’ he said. 

Draco added a full stop to his writing and turned the journal around for Harry to see.

’”11.36 pm Christmas Eve”,’ Harry read. ‘”I had sex with Harry and it was fabulous”.’ 

Harry agreed. ‘When should we tell them about us?’ he asked.

‘Not today,’ Draco said, going back to his journal while Harry got up to turn off the gas ring. ‘Just in case. I’m sure they’ll be fine, but, well, you know. Shall we tell them when it feels right, when the moment presents itself? Did we buy the Christmas pudding?!’

‘Sounds good. And for the fifteen-thousandth time, yes, I got it weeks ago.’

Satisfied, Draco doodled Christmas trees and hummed a happy Christmas tune. 

 

*****

Harry and Draco bickered over the cooking of the Christmas dinner and made up just before the oven dinged, and somewhere during the proceedings two mince pies went missing. By three o’clock everyone had full bellies and Draco had rosy cheeks from slightly too much sherry. Kasen closed his Post Office and they all settled down in one long line along the sofa to watch a Christmas film. Nobody caught the end and James snored for the very first time ever, which a sleep-infested Harry tried to catch on camera but failed when James woke up before Harry could finish reading the instructions.

‘You’re so slow, Harry. How many times did your mother drop you?’

Draco’s brilliant brainwave from the week before paid off. He’d conned Harry into driving him to Argos for a last minute buy, and the two of them came back with a meter high pile of games. Pop-up Pirate was proving a favourite, but Buckaroo was just too tense for Draco who had to tightly grip a cushion whenever he placed a saddle or a pick-axe at arms length.

‘Stupid horse! It only bucks when it’s my turn!’

Draco preferred Twister as he got to be the one to spin the arrow. Unfortunately gameplay only lasted twenty minutes because James kept dribbling. A slippery mat was a dangerous one. 

Harry and Draco sat out the five games of Operation, preferring instead to drink tea and touch hands discretely while Kasen and James screamed each time they mutilated their patient and set off the buzzer, which was every single time.

At seven o’clock, Draco broke out the mini-quiches. There were also duck spring rolls, mini-pizzas, sausage rolls and cheesy bites. Kasen wasted five of the little quiches when he stuffed them all in his mouth in one go and choked. They finished off the evening food with Yule Log and vomiting. 

The children didn’t want to go to bed, so Harry put on another Christmas film and they soon dropped off, huddled together with Archibald, the rat and a Transformer. 

‘This is definitely the definitive version,’ Draco said, examining the back the Muppet’s Christmas Carol DVD box.

Harry nodded and popped half a Walnut Whip into his mouth. ‘Rizzo really makes it.’

‘I’m glad Tiny Tim doesn’t die,’ Draco said. ‘Just looking at his little green face makes me want to weep.’

‘Auw,’ Harry said, and put his arm around him.

‘Thank you for a wonderful Christmas,’ Draco said suddenly, turning in Harry arms. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever had one quite as wonderful as this. It’s been wonderful, truly wonderful.’ His head drooped to rest on Harry’s shoulder.

‘You’ve been at the sherry again, haven’t you?’

‘A little bit. I mean it, though. Kasen and I always make sure to have a nice time, but it’s never been like this, never so … chaotic and … wonderful.’

Draco closed his eyes and the next time he opened them, both Kasen and James were gone and Harry was dragging a duvet, and pyjamas for each of them down the stairs. 

‘I thought we could sleep down here again tonight. Can you do that perimeter spell again?’

Draco went to the bathroom to clean up and put his pyjamas on, and then did the spell. ‘Were they asleep when you left them?’ he asked when Harry threw the duvet over them both and snuggled.

‘Yep, never woke up when I carried them. Guess what else?’

‘Go on.’

‘I found the mince pies.’

‘I sense a story coming,’ Draco said.

‘There was one on each of our pillows.’

‘Oh, how sweet. Did you bring them down? I quite fancy a mince pie.’

Harry sat up and leaned over Draco to claw at the coffee table. He caught the edge with his fingertips, dragged it closer and picked up a plate with the two little round pies. 

Draco peeled the First Class play stamp off his and took a bite. Harry did the same.

 

TBC…


	17. Chapter 17

  
Author's notes: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.  


* * *

January was a satisfying month. Draco constructed a dastardly plot to get out of New Years with the Weasleys, he managed to get his winter digging in Harry’s garden done before the heavy frost settled, and Kasen got seven gold stars in school.

It was February now and Draco stood outside admiring the curly Witch-hazel leaves and frost-covered winter Jasmine.

‘Looks great,’ Harry said, crossing his bare arms and shivering. ‘Who would have thought?’

Draco nodded. ‘Considering the mess it was in, I would have to agree.’

‘I think it’s going to snow.’ 

Draco looked up to the sky and smiled. ‘I think so too. The children will be pleased.’

And they were. 

Two days later, five inches of snow covered Winchester, and Kasen and James had discovered snow ball fights. James also discovered the devastating mortality of snowmen when he made a miniature one and brought it inside to watch the television. 

On the 14th February, Valentines Day, Draco and Harry sat the children down to explain to them about their relationship.

‘So, Draco and I are friends.’

‘Like Uncle Ron,’ James said, fiddling with a stripy scarf that he’d been tying Kasen up with moments before. 

‘No, no, no,’ Harry said, ‘Not like Uncle Ron. Not at all.’

Harry went on to mention “Special Friends” and “When People Care About Each Other a Lot”.

Draco rolled his eyes and stepped in to save the day. ‘Harry and I like to kiss each other. We’re friends who kiss and cuddle and hold hands.’

There was a flare of understanding in Kasen’s eyes before he said, ‘Can I have a biscuit?’ and the light was snuffed out.

‘Do you think it went well?’ Draco asked Harry later that day. It was a Sunday and they were walking off their Sunday lunch at Farley Mount. It had been snowing constantly for a week and the ground was covered with a deep, fresh layer that crunched as they walked and tripped up the children as they ran.

‘I think so. Maybe. I think they understood as much as they could.’

‘Hmm. You realise the Weasleys will be butting in from now on.’

‘Why exactly?’

‘Because James was a parrot in his previous life. He’ll repeat what we’ve told him, have no doubt.’ 

Harry fake-dodged a badly aimed snowball and threw one back. ‘Okay. Well, we’ll just deal with it.’

‘And if _they_ can’t deal with it?’ Draco pushed.

Harry looked at him with a surly expression. ‘They’ll have to. No one tells me what to do. It’s my life and I do what I want and who I want.’

Draco’s laugh echoed across the open countryside. 

‘I didn’t quite mean it like that,’ Harry said. ‘I grew up being manipulated by people, used and pushed around, told where to live. I spent the first few years of my life locked in a cupboard, for Christ’s sake.’

‘Tell me you’re exaggerating,’ Draco said, his expression deadly.

‘I’m not. I had the crappiest childhood ever. I missed out on so much. I’m not missing out now. The press have forced me from my home and I found a new one. They dragged me through the gutter and made me miserable. I’ve found some happiness now. There is no one on this planet that can tell me I’ve chosen wrong, not when the person I’ve chosen makes me feel so happy.’

Draco blinked as a cold breeze gushed and his nose turned a little redder. ‘So Ron …’

‘Can bitch all he likes. He’s my best friend, but you’re my boyfriend. There’s a line he can’t cross.’

Smugness momentarily crept over Draco before Harry shattered it.

‘And the same goes for you,’ Harry warned. ‘Don’t start with him.’

‘Fuck it, Harry, you know I won’t be able to help it. I’m argumentative and sarcastic by my very nature. How will I quell the urges?’

‘With a little hard work and patience,’ Harry said. He stopped them and took Draco’s face in his gloved hands. ‘I know you can do it.’

‘Our Daddies are going to kiss!’ Kasen yelled, and James followed the declaration up with kissing noises and plentiful giggling.

‘We might as well,’ Draco said, so Harry kissed him, slow and _almost_ chaste, bright red woollen fingers mingling with golden strands.

And then there was a loud crack and a flash.

Harry shook his head, perhaps to clear his vision. ‘ _Prophet_.’

‘Mr Potter,’ said a reporter as another Apparated, ‘is it true that you’re engaging in lewd sexual acts with a Death Eater?’

‘Mr Malfoy,’ said the third reporter as yet another Apparated, ‘Have you been hiding in Winchester all these years? When did you first realise you could gain public favour by befriending Our Saviour? When did you realise it had backfired?’

‘We’ve got nothing to say,’ Harry said, grabbing a stunned Draco’s elbow and pulling him towards Kasen and James.

‘Mr Malfoy, are you forming alliances with other Dark Wizards?’

Then, behind Kasen and James, Rita Skeeter Apparrated. ‘Hello, James. Who is your little playmate?’ 

James, teary-eyed and trembling, said nothing. He looked to his father and reached out his hand.

She turned to Kasen. ‘Hello, little one—’

‘Don’t speak to her!’ Draco called.

‘What’s your name?’

‘I am Kasen Malfoy and I don’t think I like you. You’re scaring my friend.’

‘A Malfoy? Interesting.’

_Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!_

‘Apparate to the car,’ Harry said.

Draco nodded and shouldered Rita Skeeter out of the way, sweeping Kasen into his arms and then searching his pocket for his wand.

‘Mr Potter,’ Rita said, ‘is it true that your marriage ended because of your gay affairs?’

‘No comment,’ Harry said through gritted teeth. 

‘Was your traumatic abuse at the hands of Albus Dumbledore the reason you now seek comfort from other men?’ 

‘What?! Where do you idiots get this stuff?!’

‘Don’t speak to her, Harry. Just go!’

Harry bristled for just enough time for the cameras to catch a few more shots, then he was gone.

‘Mr Malfoy, is this your son?’ Rita asked.

‘Mr Malfoy,’ another reporter said, his hand on Draco’s shoulder to turn him, ‘who is this little boy’s mother?’

Draco shrugged the reporter off and backed away, his hand deep inside his pocket still searching for his wand.

‘Are you Kasen’s father?’ Rita asked again.

‘Yes!’ Kasen yelled. ‘This is my Daddy, not yours, so go away!’

‘Kasen, shh!’ Draco whispered frantically. More reporters and photographers were Apparating in and Draco’s hands were shaking. He clawed at the fabric of his coat pocket, swishing his hand back and forth. His wand wasn’t there. 

The reporters were closing in, surrounding them, and an irrational part of Draco’s brain envisaged being stuck in the middle of them for all eternity. 

‘Daddy!’ Kasen cried, shrinking back into his father’s arms when one photographer crept up close and the camera flashed with a great _boom!_

Draco felt like screaming, like putting his son gently on the ground and then ripping apart everyone that got close. He felt his face reddening with rage, and his fingers clenched and dug into Kasen’s puffy jacket. There was only one option, one thing that he was good at. The only thing left to do.

Draco ran.

The woodlands were only fifty yards away and Draco ran at them full speed. He was a good runner, relatively fit, and he soon began to put a little distance between himself and the reporters. The cameras flashed behind him and voices shouted, some curious, some angry. They had a story to get and they didn’t intend to fail.

Draco slowed down inside the woodlands. Fallen tree branches from the bad weather still littered the ground and others hung from the skin of their bark. Draco ducked and jumped and veered. 

‘Mud!’ Kasen said, pointing ahead.

‘Don’t worry, Kasen. I won’t drop you. 

‘No, muddy place!’

A camera flashed to his left and Draco picked up the pace as the trees thinned out.

‘The track,’ Draco said, his heart lifting.

‘Muddy place,’ Kasen said again, sounding frustrated this time.

‘You’re such a good boy.’

‘Mr Malfoy!’ A voice called. ‘Were you abused by your father?’

‘Don’t listen to them, Kasen.’

Kasen obediently put his hands over his ears and closed his eyes for good measure.

‘Mr Malfoy! It’s been said you should be Azkaban …’ And Draco missed the rest as he ran onto the track and straight in front of Harry’s car. 

The car braked hard, Kasen screamed and Draco nearly expired with relief. Harry opened the door from the inside and Draco scrambled in, slamming the door and keeping Kasen on his lap. ‘That seemed a little familiar.’

They couldn’t risk turning in case the car got wedged in the ditch, so Harry put his foot down and they raced down the track and away from the emerging reporters.

‘Tell me there’s another exit,’ Harry said.

Draco held his son tightly. In the back seat, James cried. 

‘Erm, yes. Yes, I think so. There should be a private farm at the end. How did you know—?’

‘Your wand was on the floor. I took a chance.’

‘You keep rescuing me.’

Harry laughed, although it was humourless. ‘Yeah. It’s a thing I do.’ 

The car bumped along the track, the wheels running over the frozen mud. Draco looked out of the window and noticed the clouds were grey. 

 

*****

_  
Three weeks._

_Three weeks and finally Draco opened his bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. He listened to the sound of silence and watched a House-elf dither at the top of the staircase._

_There was nothing he wanted to do, nowhere he wanted to go, no-one left to be with. What was the point?_

_Draco turned around, went back into his room and closed the door with a quiet click._

__

*****

They found their way clear of the farm and kept driving until they were out of Winchester completely. The next thing Draco knew, they were pulling into a lay-by somewhere in Guilford. 

Draco looked out of the window and saw a row of shops, old fashioned white buildings with Tudor windows draped with red and green tinsel and foil stars. ‘Who fancies chips?’ he asked. ‘I for one could murder a saveloy.’

They ate in the car, the white chip paper spread over their knees until it resembled a giant greasy table cloth. 

‘You know what, we should go on holiday,’ Harry said while he picked at his cod. ‘Today. We’ll find a hotel and spend the night. Won’t that be fun?’

The children nodded around their mouthfuls of chips, and Draco was forced to admit to himself that he didn’t really want to go back to see all the reporters hanging around at the end of Harry’s road. Draco’s chest tightened and he felt that terrible emotion called guilt.

‘What about Razzle and Dazzle and Izzy?’ James asked.

Kasen spat out a chip. ‘Who’s going to feed them?’

Harry looked panicked and he opened and closed his mouth as if he was one of the soon-to-be hungry fish.

‘They’ll be fine for a day,’ Draco said. ‘We’ll just have a holiday tonight and go back tomorrow. Isn’t that right, Harry?’

‘Yeah, definitely. It’ll be fun!’

It wasn’t fun and they all knew it. 

They got the name of a decent Bed and Breakfast from the lady in the Newsagent and then followed the signs to the Town Centre where they bought a few essentials for a one night stay.

The B&B was bland, drafty and echoed; but the rooms were clean and the beds – four of them all in row like a dormitory – were the most comfortable Draco had ever encountered. 

Harry showered and Draco noted that it took him twice the normal time. When Harry finally emerged, in a cloud of steam, Draco was sat up in bed in his brand new tartan pyjamas, playing on his overnight essential – a PSP – and the children were fast asleep on full bellies and used-up adrenaline.

‘Are you okay?’ Draco asked quietly.

‘Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do or where to go. They’re just going to keep coming, aren’t they?’

Draco put Tomb Raider aside and crossed his legs so Harry could sit in front of him. ‘I need to say something.’

‘Uh-oh.’

‘No, just hear me out,’ Draco said. ‘This is all my fault. If we hadn’t met again and hadn’t got so close, they wouldn’t have found you. They only found you because they found me.’

‘This isn’t your—’ 

‘Shush, it is. And I wish there was something I could do, but I don’t know what. But if you … If you think there is something, you have to tell me.’

Harry looked genuinely mystified. ‘Like what?’

‘Well, you know.’ Draco looked away. ‘If you want me to leave. I … I can just leave you alone and you can get on without the extra hassle of my problems on top of your own. My house will be ready soon so I’ll be out of your hair anyway.’

Harry looked down and said nothing, and Draco’s heart started pounding.

‘Be absolutely honest with me, Draco, because I really don’t think I can take being lied to; do you still want to be with me?’

Bewildered and on the edge of a mini-breakdown, Draco said, ‘Of course! Why wouldn’t I?’

‘Because I’m making _your_ problems worse,’ Harry said. ‘You realise they know about Kasen now?’

‘I’d rather not think about that, thank you.’

‘You’ll have to soon. They’ll be looking for him. They’ll be outside the school, outside the house, outside bloody Sainsburys.’ Harry buried his head in his hands. ‘It’s starting again. It’ll never be over.’

Draco reached out and pulled at Harry until he came willingly and Draco could hug him. ‘If … If you want to, and if you need to move, I’ll come with you.’

Harry looked up and then sat back up quickly. ‘Would you? You’d … What about your life here?’

Draco shrugged. ‘It’s effectively over anyway, isn’t it?’

‘So we run together,’ Harry said, his lips twitching into a smile. 

‘Together.’

‘I love Winchester. I don’t want to leave, but maybe we could find another little town just like it, be a bit more careful and then pop back in a few years when everything has calmed down.’

Harry smiled and Draco was torn between kissing him and patting him on the head for being such a hopeless optimist. It would never calm down. ‘Whatever happens, if we face it together it won’t be nearly as bad as facing it alone, believe me. And remind me to go and see Severus tomorrow. He’ll hex me into next week if I don’t talk to him about all this. Oh, I’ve an idea, maybe we could stay with him for a … no, I see your not happy with that, never mind.’

They settled back against the headboard and talked most of the night, about the different places they could live and the sort of house they’d like to get together and whether or not they could get Draco his own car so he wouldn’t have to back Harry’s into anything any more. And somewhere within this mammoth conversation, Draco realised that he didn’t ever want to leave Harry and he would do anything for him.

Anything.

Maybe moving wasn’t the answer.

 

TBC …


	18. Chapter 18

  
Author's notes: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.

* * *

‘What do you think?’ Draco asked. He sat on Severus’s sofa, his wand in his hands and his fingers constantly moving. ‘I think it’s the only way.’

Severus placed a glass of something pungent on the coffee table. ‘Calm yourself before you do something you’ll regret.’

‘I won’t regret it. They deserve it. They all deserve it.’

‘And when others take their place, you’ll do what?’

Draco looked away, looked at the dirty and grey net curtains, the splintered windowsill, anywhere but at Severus. ‘Then I’ll do the same to them.’ 

‘And to the next wave of reporters after that? What happens when they dare meddle in your affairs?’ 

‘Look, it’s not like I asked them to hound me! It’s not like Harry asked to have his life impeded! It’s not like—’

‘It’s not like you caused great pain to a family for your own selfish needs?’

‘That’s different.’

‘How so?’

‘Because she was a whore and she had my son!’

‘You tore them apart,’ Severus said softly.

Draco gripped his wand and debated snapping it. How much force would it take? ‘I know. And I wouldn’t take it back for anything.’ 

‘There’s one of them left, you know?’

‘What?’

‘It’s time you stopped hiding and re-entered your world, so I checked. Draco, Kasen’s mother has been dead for the last two years. There is only a cousin left now, an unsightly man of low IQ. He is unaware of Kasen’s existence. I also took the liberty of clearing up your incredibly messy trail – how the _Prophet_ didn’t find out before now I’ll never know. Kasen’s mother is now a Muggle from Berlin who died just after he was born. You and she dated for a year and she left no family. _That_ is the new trail the _Prophet_ should be following once they catch up to it. So you see, there’s no need for such extreme measures.’ Satisfied and, in Draco’s opinion, smug, Severus Snape leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink. 

‘She’s dead? But … how? I didn’t kill her, Severus.’

‘I am aware of that. But don’t you see—’

‘I just see more lies. What do I tell Kasen?’

‘When he is old enough to understand your reasons, you tell him the truth. I think you owe him that.’

‘This is such a mess.’

‘A mess of your own making.’

‘What do I do?’

‘Fix it. Do what a Malfoy does best.’

Draco was outraged and he put his wand back in his pocket before he really did break it or, worse, used it. ‘I just told you what I wanted to do and you made me feel like an idiot!’

‘That was because your suggestion was idiotic. Burning the _Prophet_ to the ground, Obliviating reporters, kidnapping, what would your father think? Is that how he would handle things? Did you not learn the first time?’

‘My father was a very bad man,’ Draco quite rightly pointed out. ‘He did terrible things.’

‘I remember. I remember he wanted great things for you. I also remember the first and only time he went too far and ended up in Azkaban. Draco, your life could have been so different. Can you imagine what would happen to Kasen if you were to be incarcerated? For his sake, please come to your senses. Be your father’s son.’

 

*****

 

Draco Apparated as close to Harry’s as he could and looked up and down the street. Sure enough, a gaggle of reporters had set up camp right down the end of the road. It would only be a matter of time before they worked out exactly where Harry’s house was supposed to be.

He locked the front door behind him and accepted a flying hug from James. ‘Why I am now covered with flour?’ Draco asked him.

James smiled a white powdery smile and shouted ‘CAKES!’

‘Oh, we’re baking, are we?’ He set James back down and followed him into the kitchen. ‘Oh my good Merlin, what is that?’

‘That,’ Harry said proudly, ‘is a Victoria Sponge. My first.’

Draco stared at the half risen, wonky cake that was falling apart as it sat on its plate like a demolished council flat. ‘And your last, yes?’ 

‘Don’t be mean or you won’t get any chocolate chip cakes.’

Draco had to admit, something did smell good. ‘Wonderful presentation. The plate is exquisite.’

‘We saved you the spoon,’ Kasen announced, holding out a mighty wooden spoon that was covered in cake-mix.

Draco thanked him and sat down in a pile of flour. He licked at the spoon and munched on a stray chocolate chip. 

He would miss this. If it all went to shit.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said suddenly when the children had been sent to wash and change. ‘I don’t know what to do and I must do something. I’m afraid.’

‘Afraid? Of the future, you mean? Don’t be. We’ll work this out.’

Draco nodded slowly. 

‘What did Severus have to say for himself?’ Harry asked conversationally. He gathered up the mucky bowls and spoons and headed over the sink to turn on the tap.

Draco tutted. ‘That old goat. He was as much help to me as a drowning man’s anvil.’ 

That made Harry smile. Harry always smiled when Draco insulted Severus. 

‘I think he’s been on the Night Nurse again. He was positively brimming over with … Oh bollocks, he did actually make a lot of sense. And …’ 

‘And?’ Harry asked, glancing over his shoulder from the sink. His glasses were on crooked so Draco got up and straitened them. Then he told him exactly what Severus had told him about Kasen’s mother and about his own plan to literally wipe the _Prophet_ from the face of the earth.

Stunned, Harry said nothing.

‘Do you want me to leave?’ Draco asked. ‘Because I can. I’ll go without a fuss. I wouldn’t want to upset the children.’

Harry ran both hands through his hair. ‘Just sit down and shut up for a minute. Bloody hell.’

‘I would have done it. But Severus pointed out several serious flaws in my plan.’

‘Sit down.’

‘You’re ashamed of me, aren’t you?’

Harry sat next to him and took his hand. ‘You are who you are and I would never try to change that. But sometimes you can be a right clot brain. I expect certain things from you, certain behaviour because of your parents and the war and all the awful things that happened. I expect you to be rude and ruthless and _really_ defensive. But you know that if you’d done something like that, it would have been the end for us.’

Like a scorned child, Draco nodded and bit his lip.

‘But I don’t think you would have done it anyway.’

That made Draco look up.

‘I think you told Severus your plans so that he would talk you out of them. I think you needed to get those thoughts out of your system because you feel like you have to do something but you also feel powerless. I think—’

‘All right, Jerry Springer, that’s enough!’

‘I think you want to protect your family,’ Harry finished.

‘Why do you always see the good in everyone? Why do you continue to believe in me?’

‘Because that’s who I am. And because you’re worth believing in. I always thought that.’

Draco tried not to smile. ‘Even when I dressed up as a Dementor?’

‘Well, not then.’

‘And when you saved me from Azkaban?’ he asked more seriously. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘To give you another chance. And because the wizarding world needs a Malfoy.’

Draco shook his head. ‘Sometimes I really don’t understand you.’

‘That’s because I’m complicated.’

That was an understatement. It didn’t make any sense. Harry Potter didn’t make any sense and he never really had. 

But then again, nothing made sense right now. Draco could barely recognise himself. He was truly happy for the very first time, even though he was with a man he’d once hated, a man he’d once almost killed. Draco’s world was falling down around his ears, but he still had Kasen and James and Harry. He had his own family and that was all that mattered. He’d once done what was necessary to ensure Kasen’s happiness, and he somehow needed to inflict himself upon the wizarding world again in order to secure that happiness and that of his new family. 

‘Hey, have you got any money?’ Harry asked. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous, I’m filthy rich.’

Harry rolled his eyes. ‘Have you got any money _on you?_ I need some change for some milk and a paper – don’t want to risk going to a cash machine.’

Draco pulled a few notes and some coins out of his pocket and held them out in his palm. 

Harry plucked out a five pound note. ‘Thanks. Do you want anything?’

‘Strawberry yoghurt,’ Draco said. He stared at the money left in his hands and vaguely heard a request to check on the suspiciously quiet children. 

Then Harry was gone and Draco was left sitting and staring and smiling. 

He needed to be a Malfoy.

*****

__

_His son opened his eyes and Draco was lost forever. He would do anything for this child. He’d kill for him, lie for him, burn families in their beds for him. He would protect him, love him, give him a life most children would beg for. It would be a life based on riches galore, but it would also be a life without doubts._

_‘Father, Mother, I want you to meet your grandson.’_

_Shock registered over both their faces. ‘Grandson?’ his mother said. ‘Draco. Draco, he’s beautiful.’_

_‘I know. I think he looks like you, Mother.’_

_‘Look at that lovely blond hair. A true Malfoy.’ Narcissa smiled and reached out as far as she could, her longing to touch so obvious in her expression._

_‘Father? You haven’t said anything.’_

_Lucius frowned his disapproval. ‘How did this happen?’ he asked._

_‘I … It’s complicated.’_

_‘Who is the mother? Tell me you haven’t married without telling us?’_

_‘Of course not!’ The baby stirred and Draco shushed and rocked him gently. ‘His mother isn’t important. She’s isn’t around anymore. She served her purpose.’_

_‘She was Pureblood, I hope.’_

_‘Obviously.’_

_‘How did this happen, Draco?’ Lucius asked sternly._

_Draco straightened and looked at his father directly for the first time since his death. ‘I needed someone. I wanted a family. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. Part of me wished I was in there with you.’_

_Narcissa covered her mouth with her hands. ‘No, Draco, don’t say such things. You have your whole life ahead of you.’_

_Draco looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms. ‘I do now.’_

_Lucius cleared his throat and stepped into the foreground of the painting. ‘Bring him closer then, so I can see.’_

_Draco obeyed, as he always did._

_‘He’s a fine boy,’ Lucius said. ‘You’ve done well.’_

_‘It wasn’t an exam, Father!’ Draco snapped, holding his son close and backing away. ‘I can’t believe I actually thought you’d be pleased for me.’_

_‘I didn’t mean …! I’m sorry. Don’t take him away. I haven’t finished looking.’_

_Draco looked to his mother for approval. She nodded kindly at him, tears forming in her eyes. So Draco stood inches from the painting of his dead parents and let them look all they wanted._

_‘Beautiful,’ Lucius whispered. ‘I wish I could touch him.’_

_Draco swallowed down the lump in his throat and said, ‘Would you like to name him, Father?’_

 

*****

 

When Harry returned home, it was to a spotless kitchen, the children watching cartoons, and Draco writing one of his epic lists. 

‘There was an owl outside,’ Harry said, waving a copy of the _Prophet_. ‘We should probably cancel our subscription before those lot outside notice the delivery.’

‘Probably a bit late now.’

‘Yeah. Want me to bin this copy?’

Draco narrowed his eyes at the paper, silently promising a fire and ash end for at least that one copy. ‘No, give it to me.’

_MALFOY HEIR: 3 YEAR-OLD SON CAUGHT UP IN POTTER/MALFOY SCANDAL_

‘They haven’t even got his age right. Scandal indeed. Take it away! I no longer wish to be in the same room as this ridiculous and sorry excuse for low class, economy bog paper. I wouldn’t even wipe your arse with it, Potter.’ 

Harry took the paper back and leaned over to kiss his boyfriend’s head. ‘That’s the Draco I know and adore. Welcome back. Oh I checked at the school again and the place is swarming; we’ll have to keep the kids off for—’

‘Is that owl still outside?’

Harry peered through the window. ‘Yep.’

‘Oh good, let it in for awhile, would you? I have a letter I want to send.’

Harry opened the door and the owl wandered in looking far more confused than an owl in its prime of life should. The Fidelius Charm was no friend to messenger birds.

‘Who are you writing to?’

‘My solicitor. I want to arrange an appointment. I need to move some money around, make things more secure for Kasen, see what my rights are and how much I can sue the for.’ Draco got up and fetched a sheet of parchment. ‘Change my will,’ he added when he sat back down. 

‘Oh. Okay.’ Harry looked uncomfortable, which was the whole point of mentioning the will. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

‘No. But perhaps you could take the boys to the Weasley’s for me. I expect I’ll be a while. You know how tense they get when one of us is gone for so long.’

Harry agreed, as Draco knew he would, so Draco wrote a quick letter and gave it to the owl along with several knuts. The appointment would be for tomorrow; he’d demanded it; and what a Malfoy wanted, a Malfoy got.

 

TBC …


	19. Chapter 19

  
Author's notes: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.

* * *

Draco Malfoy admired his reflection in the mirror. He looked stunning, if he did say so himself. He couldn’t entirely say he felt comfortable, though, at least not in the literal sense. He wasn’t used to the high collar and the tight trousers. The cloak was annoying and heels just weren’t his thing anymore. He longed for his Levis. 

‘Wow,’ Harry said. ‘You’ll be on the Cover of Witch Weekly if you’re not careful.’

Draco gave him a brilliant smile. ‘Do you really think I look okay?’

‘Well obviously I prefer you with fewer clothes, but apart from that you look great. More than great.’ Harry’s hands found their way onto Draco’s shirt, around his waist, smoothing over his hips …

‘Stop that,’ Draco said, stepping back. ‘The last thing I need is to get an erection in these trousers. There isn’t room.’ 

Draco had been wide awake all night, half worrying and half excited. He wasn’t used to throwing his weight around to such an extent anymore and the thought of it was like insulin to a diabetic. 

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come? I could leave the boys with Molly. They’d be fine and I could wait outside if you wanted to go to the meeting by yourself, I wouldn’t mind.’

Draco tilted his head and leaned in. ‘No need. I’ll be fine.’

‘I just worry.’

‘I know.’ They kissed. ‘As would I if our positions were reversed.’

‘Positions?’

An hour later Draco said goodbye to the children and left Harry to his perverted thoughts. He Apparated to Charring Cross and entered the Leaky Cauldron. Hush immediately swept across the pub as heads turned and eyes looked him up and down.

He closed the door behind him and used those few moments to gather his thoughts, wits and confidence, and to remember why he was doing this. 

When he turned to face everyone, it was with an air of arrogance and superiority. ‘Yes?’ he asked. ‘Something wrong? Yes, that’s right, this is what a clean person looks like.’ He waited until they all began to look away then he walked confidently through the crowds and back into his world. 

Diagon Alley was just as he remembered it: dirty and claustrophobic. He closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose. Parchment, ink, mothballs and animal dung, the scent of a typical wizard. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, but it was a familiar one. He glanced at the cobbled street and pictured himself walking alongside his mother and father, holding their hands.

*****

_‘Mother, can I have an owl?_

_‘Not until you go to school.’_

_‘That’s years! Goyle’s got an owl, why can’t I have one?’_

_‘Draco, you don’t need an owl. You’re too young. Honestly, pre-school children with owls, whatever next, Lucius?’_

_‘I want one!’_

_Draco’s father squatted down in front of him, his gloved hands resting on Draco’s shoulders. ‘That’s enough. Your mother has told you no.’_

_‘Yes, Sir,’ Draco said reluctantly._

_‘But how about something better? How about a snake?’_

_Draco gasped and threw his arms around his father. ‘Thank you!’_

 

*****

 

A witch bumped his shoulder as she passed, a squat, blob of a woman. Draco gave her the dirtiest look he could muster and turned back to face his future. 

Diagon Alley stretched into the distance, the ground mostly obscured by milling people, talking, chattering, shouting, going about their business with sweet obliviousness. Draco Malfoy was about to change their world forever; they just didn’t know it yet.

Draco walked with his chin held high. His strides were confident and he stared straight ahead. The crowds parted and let him though and chatter turned to murmured speculation and whispered fear. 

And they would fear him, just as they’d feared his father. 

Heads turned and eyes stared. Children pointed and their parents pulled them away. Ludicrous. Such a reaction to a person who had sought retreat and was only back because The Power That Be had dragged him back against his will.

He passed Flourish and Blotts and nodded a greeting to a tall wizard in tall hat with a tall cane. He looked like someone his father would have made a point to know. The confused man nodded back.

Madam Malkin’s was gone and in its place was a pet shop. Brightly coloured fish swam in a tank outside; they changed colour and fizzled with electricity. As he passed, a big blue fish blinked at him and changed to violet as its spiked tail swished against the glass and rocked the tank. Kasen would love one of those, Draco thought.

Gringotts was its usual magnificent self and Draco resisted going inside. There would be time for that later. Instead he stopped and bowed to a Goblin he recognised and enquired after his health and fortune. The crowds stared angrily and Draco turned and raised an eyebrow in question, daring anyone to come forward from the masses and challenge him one on one. 

No-one did.

But two words echoed across the crowds over and over again and it got louder as the crowd grew and surged.

_DeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEater_

Draco walked faster. The crowd was puffing up, readying, rising up. There weren’t any pitchforks but Draco wouldn’t have been surprised by them. He kept his head high and walked with every bit of dwindling confidence he had.

‘You’re not welcome here, Death Eater!’ one single voice, daring to be heard above the others, said. 

Draco had two choices: carry on walking and let this cretin publicly label him or turn around and stand his ground. He chose the option that would make his father proud.

‘And you are?’ he said to an angry wizard with a bright purple face and a large white cat at his ankles. ‘No-one significant, I suspect,’ he went on. ‘Remove yourself from my presence and I’ll consider forgetting your face.’

‘We don’t want your sort around here so I suggest you clear off before there’s trouble.’

‘Trouble? From you, I assume?’

‘Bloody right from me.’

‘I see. So you’re threatening me? And in front of all these witnesses, tut, tut. And what, may I ask, did I do to deserve such treatment?’

The man opened his mouth and closed it again when he couldn’t think of an answer.

‘I thought so,’ Draco said. ‘Good day.’ He walked away feeling pleased with himself and it was only when he’d put a fair distance between himself and the angry mob that he heard the wizard bravely shout, ‘Tosser!’

‘The manners of some people,’ he said lightly, shaking his head in good humour as he passed an elderly witch and her friends. ‘I do like your hat. Very … abstract. The monkey tails are a nice touch!’

The witch grinned a black and white grin. ‘Thank you, kind sir. Thank you indeed.’ Then to her friends, ‘Such a nice boy. Who was that?’

At the end of Diagon Alley, past Ollivander’s, was Parkinson & Sons, a solicitors office that occupied a miniscule building that was wedged between two huge shops like a single piece of cucumber in a door-stop sandwich. A tiny brass plaque next to the door stated the business name and the solicitors working inside. It was a select establishment. You were either a life-long client going back generations, or you were nothing.

Draco entered without knocking and stood expectantly in front of the receptionist’s desk.

‘Do you have an appointment?’ the witch asked, dabbing at a spot of what appeared to be mayonnaise on her blouse. 

‘Of course.’

‘And you are?’

Draco waited and the witch continued to dab, her serviette smearing the mess rather than soaking it up. When she eventually realised she hadn’t been answered, she put down the tissue and looked up. 

‘Who do you think I am?’ Draco said.

‘Erm …’ And then her eyes widened with recognition. ‘You’re … Okay, if you’d just like to wait—’

‘I don’t wait.’

‘No, no, of course not, follow me,’ she said quickly. 

She got out of her chair but failed to gain any height. Draco followed her along the corridor and up the stairs, along another corridor and then back down a different flight of stairs. The next corridor curved around in a circle and they arrived back at the reception desk and a door opposite that Draco hadn’t noticed the first time.

‘Security measures,’ she said apologetically, and then knocked and entered the room. ‘Mr Malfoy to see you.’

‘Excellent. Bring him in, please.’

Draco swept into the room, a perfect copy of his father, sleek, poised, confident.

‘Hello, Draco. I wondered when I’d be seeing you again. You certainly kept me waiting.’

‘Pansy? Oh bollocks.’ 

*****

 

Pansy Parkinson handed Draco a piece of parchment. ‘Are you over the shock yet?’ she asked, handing him her quill. ‘Sign there. And there. I can’t believe you didn’t realise it was me.’

‘The sign said Parkinson and _Son,_ ’ Draco pointed out. 

‘Yes, I keep meaning to fix that. Actually, your appointment was with Daddy, but I arranged an overseas crisis for him so I could see you instead. Draco, you’ve never once written to me since school.’

Draco had no doubt that if anyone could arrange an overseas crisis at one days notice, it was Pansy Parkinson. It made him remember the good times and he reached across the desk for her hand. ‘Oh Pansy, I have missed you.’

‘Not enough to owl me, though,’ she said, twining their fingers together.

‘It was difficult. I needed to make a clean break of it. If it helps, I was sorry to leave you behind. Nobody quite understood me like you did.’

She patted his hand and then extracted her own to reach for a tissue. ‘You were complicated, but not too complicated for me,’ she said as she dabbed at her eyes. ‘I hope you’ve not replaced me.’

‘Of course not! You were, and always will be, the one fag hag in my life.’

‘I should hope so. I gave you years of my life, Draco Malfoy. I expect recompense when we’re all done with this. And speaking of, how quickly do you want this to happen?’

‘Quickly. Or quicker, if possible.’

‘And you’re absolutely sure you want to do this? It’s a lot to loose.’

‘It’s not loss. It’s a means to an end.’

Pansy jumped up from her chair and clapped her hands. ‘This is so exciting! It’s been months since I’ve taken anyone to the cleaners. Daddy says I always go too far.’

‘Do you really think we can do this?’ Draco said. He looked around Pansy’s office, at her opulent furnishings, and academic certificates adorning the walls. In another world, in another dimension and in another universe, this could have been his life.

‘Oh absolutely. It’s just a matter of how much it will take.’

‘Well, offer the money first, the threats can come later. But not too much later. Let me know when they’re ready to admit defeat and I’ll begin stage two.’

‘About stage two,’ Pansy said, sitting back down in a movement that was positively sulky, ‘don’t you think you’re being a little … overly generous. You could achieve much more for so much less.’

‘Nonsense. I want to do it. I want there to be a difference between me and my father, and even if the world doesn’t know it, this is that difference. My gift will come from the heart.’

Pansy looked moved for no more than a moment. Then she picked up her quill and countersigned Draco’s parchments. ‘Potter did this to you. He made you all … queer.’

Draco laughed. ‘I think I did that all by myself. Although he does give me a hand now and again.’

The quill fell from pansy’s hand. ‘It’s true? You and Potter? I thought the _Prophet_ was exaggerating, as usual. You’re actually buggering him?’

‘Pansy!’

‘I’ll take that as a yes. You’re a sly one, Draco, I’ll give you that.’

‘There’s nothing sly about it. We met, our children clashed nearly as badly as we did, and we had to sort it out. It grew from there.’

‘Children. Shudder. And what did it grow into? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love.’

‘No comment.’

‘I’m not a reporter so answer the question properly.’

Draco thought about his life pre and post Potter. There was no doubt that Harry had filled a hole in his heart. But did he really love him? 

‘I … I’m doing this for him. All of it. I could just take my son and leave, disappear like I did the first time because when I’m out of sight I’m eventually out of mind. Harry doesn’t have that luxury. He needs a much bigger fix.’

‘I see.’ Pansy looked a little green. ‘How … sickeningly romantic. You’ll be marrying him next.’

‘Marrying? I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘Well don’t. That was just me putting unnecessary thoughts in your head. Clear them out at once. We have bigger things afoot. Now, for the last time, are you absolutely sure?’

For Kasen. For James. 

For Harry. 

‘Absolutely,’ Draco said. ‘Do it. Send the owls.’

Pansy nodded, stood and held out her arms. ‘Good luck,’ she said.

‘I don’t think I’ll need it with you on my side.’ Draco closed his eyes and held his friend tightly. ‘My beloved Pansy.’

‘My Draco.’ She pulled away from him. ‘And you’d better tell Potter that. You’re mine, not his.’

‘I’ll tell him.’

‘Good. Now shoo before I get all girly and emotional.’

If there was anyone that would fight his corner and do his dirty work, it was Pansy. Her eyes were watery, but behind the unshed tears was determination and loyalty. She wouldn’t let him down.

Draco kissed her goodbye and Disapparated.

 

******

 

Apparating into the middle of the Weasleys’s front lawn wasn’t one of Draco’s best plans. He was instantly blinded by cameras and flummoxed by a hundred shouted questions.

‘Get in here, you bloody idiot!’ 

Something tall and ginger grabbed him and hauled him into the house.

‘Mind the robes, honestly.’

‘Draco, where have you been?’ Harry walked towards him, his face taut and worried, but the children overtook him and Draco was presented with several works of fine art and his very own used paintbrush. 

‘I told you this morning, my solicitor.’

‘For seven hours?! Tell me what’s going on?’

‘Yeah, Daddy,’ Kasen said, ‘Tell us what’s going on and when dinner is.’

‘You haven’t eaten?’ Draco asked him.

‘No, your kid’s been starving waiting for you.’

‘Ah, Ron. I thought I heard an IQ dripping.’

‘Shut it, Malfoy. You’ve got some explaining to do.’

‘To you? I seriously doubt it.’

‘That’s enough!’ Harry tried not to shout but failed. ‘Kids, why don’t you go tell Molly we’re ready to eat. Ron, back off for a minute. Draco, come with me.’

Harry led him to an empty bedroom and sat them both on the bed. It wasn’t a very good bed and Draco wondered how long they could sit on it before the end sloped enough for them to end up on the floor. Not that it would be a bad thing …

‘On a scale of one to ten,’ Harry said, ‘how evil have you been today?’

Draco sighed and looked over at a torn poster of the Weird Sisters. ‘Well, considering I’m usually a two, perhaps three, I’ve been evil up to maybe a four.’ 

Harry nodded. ‘Seriously, you’re up to something. What is it?’

‘Nothing for you to worry about.’

‘Bad luck, then, because I am worried.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you went to see your solicitor and didn’t come back for seven hours.’

‘I told you I’d be a while!’

‘It doesn’t take seven hours to move some money about!’

‘Oh fine, have it your way,’ Draco said, getting up and flouncing over to the window. He crossed his arms and stared out at the reporters. ‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’

‘A surprise?’ Harry said. ‘For me?’

‘Of course for you.’ Draco turned around. ‘Oh don’t make me spoil it, please, Harry.’ He sat back down on the bed. ‘I promise I haven’t done anything remotely illegal or immoral. You do believe me, don’t you?’

Harry sighed and took Draco’s face in his hands. ‘Of course I believe you. I was just worried. I don’t like being worried. It makes me …’

‘Arsey.’

‘Yeah. You were in the _Evening Prophet_ again. They got a picture of the crowds of Diagon Alley parting to let you through.’

‘Really? Did it look impressive?’

‘Very. And, according the _Prophet_ , sinister.’

‘Sinister? Is that what they actually said? Oh my, I think I like that.’

‘Stop it,’ Harry said, but he was smiling. ‘Let’s have some dinner.’

 

*****

 

Dinner was an awkward affair with only the children fully at ease. Ron sulked at the end of the table, while Hermione chatted inanely about Ministry matters to Mr Weasley who had nothing more constructive to say than, ‘Well, hasn’t it been a lovely gay, uh, day?’

When the ordeal was over, Harry asked Draco to floo back with the children while he stayed to talk to Molly who had apparently been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the day.

‘Daddy, can I have a Unicorn?’ Kasen asked as they stepped from Harry’s fireplace.

‘Certainly not.’

Both Kasen and James looked rather disappointed, as though Kasen asking had been a genius plot they’d been working on all day.

‘But how about another fish? A special fish.’

The boys looked at each other, their faces lighting up. ‘Yes please!’ they both said.

‘Excellent. But shush, don’t tell Harry. We just have to wait for a few … well, awhile. But then, when everything is ready, we’ll get your fish. How about that?’

They nodded eagerly and Draco ruffled their hair and wandered upstairs in an almost dreamlike state. He unbuttoned his shirt as he walked and imagined what it was going to be like, when Pansy called for the final time, when the plan was at its peak and he’d got his way. Oh the things he was going to show Kasen, and Hogwarts was top of the list. Draco could just see his little face alight with wonder, just like his was when his father had first shown him. 

 

*****

 

_Draco looked around him, at the polished floors and the high ceilings, the suits of armour and ancient sculptures. A hundred painted eyes watched him and a ghost drifted in the distance._

_‘My instincts say Durmstrang, but I expect Narcissa will get her way.’_

_‘I don’t want to go to Durmstrang!’ Draco said. ‘I like Hogwarts!’_

_His father ignored him so Draco turned to the man on his other side. ‘I like Hogwarts,’ he repeated more calmly. ‘I expect it’s the best. It is, isn’t it?’_

_He didn’t get an answer so he let go of his father’s hand and ran ahead to catch one of the staircases just as it moved. He gripped the banister tightly as his father had advised and laughed as it swung round._

_‘Who are you, then?’ said a tall ginger-haired boy waiting on the connecting platform._

_‘Draco Malfoy. Who are you? Your hair is a funny colour.’_

_‘Draco, come away, please.’_

_He considered disobeying, but only for a moment. He grinned up at the strange looking boy and then jumped onto the next staircase. He rode them for what seemed like hours and was hungry by the time he was finished._

_‘Perhaps consider Durmstrang.’_

_‘Nonsense. Narcissa won’t have it.’_

_‘Perhaps she could be persuaded. The fame and notoriety of Hogwarts could be destructive to a young boy’s education.’_

_His father laughed and took Draco’s sweaty hand the moment he held it out. ‘Anyone would think you were trying to put me off. Is there something I should know?’_

_The other man said nothing so Draco looked up at his father, at the amused smile as it slowly slid away._

_‘Severus? What have you to tell me?’_

_‘Nothing. It’s just that The Ministry has little to do with the school these days, no influence. Durmstrang is much more tightly run. I thought you should know.’_

_It was the first time in Draco’s life that he’d detected a lie, but by the time he was looking a giant squid in the eye, he’d forgotten._

 

*****

 

Harry returned within the hour, looking pale and tired. ‘There were tears,’ he announced, and then pounced on a packet of chocolate biscuits. 

‘Who? You?’

‘Molly. I know she didn’t think I’d be single forever, but me moving on just feels like she’s lost a little bit more of Ginny.’

‘I hope that wasn’t what she said. That selfish wench!’

‘Don’t be a bastard. She was upset.’

‘That doesn’t mean she can make you feel guilty about it.’

‘That wasn’t her intention. And if it makes you feel better, she said you were a very handsome choice and she’d have gone for you herself if she’d been thirty years younger, despite your terrible reputation and villainous haircut.’ 

Draco wasn’t sure if he was flattered or disgusted so he pushed all thoughts of either to the back of his head and concentrated on making Harry feel better. He ran him a bath, put the children to bed, held him close and kissed him slowly. And when they made love, he relinquished all the control he could and let Harry go his own way. 

It was only the second time in his life that he’d allowed anyone that kind of power over him and, as Harry slid inside, Draco allowed himself to hope this was forever.

 

TBC …


	20. Chapter 20

  
Author's notes: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.  


* * *

March was the worst month of Draco’s life; at least it felt that way. The _Prophet’s_ reporters were everywhere and the stories they were printing got gradually worse and worse as the days past. Ron and Harry were constantly bickering and one such argument resulted in Harry storming back to the house, past Draco and into the garden where Draco found him struggling to not to cry. Shocked and unsure what to do, Draco immediately baked an apple crumble and served it with double cream. It seemed to help and Harry kissed him so sweetly, but the peace didn’t last for long. 

Everyday, the walls closed further in, the _Prophet_ suffocating them and the spotlight blazing like a blue flame; it scorched and burned and Harry started to go slightly mad. 

‘Is everything all right?’ Draco asked one afternoon, noticing Harry’s jigging leg and the absence of little voices.

‘I just flooed the kids to Molly’s,’ Harry said.

‘Why? What’s happened? Are they alright? Harry, speak to me!’

‘Why are we hanging around, Draco? Why are we just sitting here while _they_ sit outside? They’ve got a tent up now, a bloody press tent. Have you seen it? I can’t stand this anymore. I can’t stand it!’

‘I’m sorry. We’ll move, we’ll just move. I’ll make a call. We’ll be out of here by tonight.’ A little part of Draco hated himself. It was his fault they’d delayed moving, hoping his plan would come through. But it had been over a month and so far no-one was biting. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.’

Harry shook his head and got up. He paced and ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands with too much force for an absolutely sane person. ‘No, it’s not good enough.’

‘Oh …’ Inner Draco clutched at his broken heart.

‘No! No,’ Harry said, surging forward with alarming speed and grasping Draco’s arms. ‘I meant the moving isn’t good enough. It’s not going to solve anything, is it?’

‘I …’

‘Is it?!’ 

‘I don’t know!’

‘It’s not good enough,’ Harry said again. ‘I know it’s not. What will all this do to the kids?’

Harry walked to the window. ‘Look at them. They can’t even see the house but they’re still taking pictures. How crazy is that?’

‘Harry, there’s something I need to tell you.’

But Harry wasn’t listening. He threw open the door and stormed down the driveway.

_Death Eater Attacks Press_ the headline said the next day, and there on the front page was a picture of Draco struggling with Rita Skeeter’s photographer. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said, hanging his head in shame. ‘I can’t believe they blamed you.’

Draco carefully folded the paper up and then tossed it straight out the open kitchen window. ‘The famous Potter temper,’ he said, and then smiled. ‘It was a damn good punch, though, Harry. Very impressive. I feel proud to take the blame for such an act.’

‘My selfless boyfriend.’ 

They held hands and leaned against the kitchen counter.

‘Do you feel better now?’ Draco asked. ‘You certainly don’t seem quite so psychotic.’

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand. ‘I’m better. I felt better the moment my fist connected with that git’s nose. Hey, violence really does solve some things.’

‘Yes,’ Draco said, bright and proud, ‘and crime also pays.’

A week later they were packing. Draco had found a lovely Georgian house for rent in Brighton that was gloriously spacious and only a short walk from the beach. He should have realised that property and contracts took such a long time, and Draco was so annoyed at himself for putting Harry through extra stress when they should have just upped and moved while Pansy kept an eye on everything else. 

There was a flash of green fire from the fireplace and out stepped Ron, his face bright red and his brow dripping sweat. ‘Any more?’

Draco pointed to the corner of the room. It was bare now apart from a stack of boxes. ‘Those and this one when I’ve marked it.’

Ron nodded. ‘Right.’

‘We should try to get on,’ Draco said, his back to Ron. ‘For Harry’s sake. At least for now.’

Ron nodded again. ‘Right. For Harry.’

‘Good,’ Draco said, turning around. ‘And then when I turn evil you can feel free to tell him you told him so.’

Ron pondered that. ‘Yeah, alright. You’ve got yourself a deal.’

They shook hands and Draco waited until Ron flooed out with another pile of boxes before he allowed himself a luxurious smirk.

‘What are you grinning at?’ a bemused Harry asked as he passed through the living room with a crying, mud-covered child who could have been either Kasen or James.

‘Nothing. Just got myself a good deal, that’s all.’ 

 

*****

_The house was quiet and alien. It felt still, lifeless, strange and below him. He’d done his research into Muggle ways and was surrounded gadgets and ‘electrical’ items that made no sense and were ugly and black._

_Draco picked up Kasen from his Moses basket and rocked him. Bright blue eyes stared up at him and tiny little lips seemed to smile._

_‘Good afternoon, Kasen. It’s just you and me now.’_

_Kasen made a happy noise and he flexed his fingers until Draco offered him his thumb. Kasen held tightly to it._

_‘I’m sorry we couldn’t stay. But … this is a nice area. At least it should be for the price I paid. Do you know what the galleons to pounds exchange rate is these days? Disgraceful.’_

_More happy noises and Draco forgot about the silence. He sat on the sofa with his son and talked to him, told him of all the fun they would have together and of all the security and safety Draco would provide._

_‘And you haven’t seen the garden yet, have you? Would you like to have a look? Yes, I think you would.’_

_He wrapped Kasen in an extra blanket and carried him outside. The garden was overgrown with weeds – brambles, thistles and nettles waiting in every corner to tangle and snare._

_‘Isn’t it magnificent?’ Draco said, proudly looking around the garden. ‘Well, not really. But it will be. I’m going to take up gardening.’ He looked back down at his gurgling son. ‘I’ve bought books on the subject and even something called a gardening ‘video’, whatever that is. I’m going to turn this miniature rainforest into something glorious, somewhere for you to play and somewhere for me to think clearly. Yes, I like it better out here. I like it very much.’_

 

*****

 

The new house was cold and gloomy. Draco shivered and hugged a cushion to his chest. He stared out the window at all the other cold, gloomy houses.

The fireplace flared green and Harry half tripped out into the living room. ‘Why are you standing in the dark?’ he asked, flicking on the main light. ‘And why haven’t you put the heating on?’

Draco stared miserably over his shoulder and attempted to force a beaming smile. ‘No reason, Harry.’

‘No reason except?’

‘Except that I hate it. I miss Winchester.’

‘It’s been 12 minutes.’

‘I don’t like this house.’

‘Right.’ Harry disappeared from sight so Draco sat on the sofa and curled up as best he could considering his abominable surroundings. He closed his eyes and remembered Winchester with its green leaves and fresh scents of lilies and roses, Kasen running through open fields and falling down ditches, and his little broken farm house encased in poppies and bluebells. 

‘That’s better,’ Harry said.

Draco opened his eyes, frowned and sat up. The room was no longer cold and grey, but snug and peachy. It was dark outside now, but the street lamp cast a warm orange glow. The fire was flickering and, along the mantelpiece, candle flames danced and welcomed. 

‘What did you do?’

‘Turned the heating and the lights on. You okay?’

Draco swung his feet to the floor. ‘Sit with me?’

Harry sat down next to him and Draco fiddled with a loose cotton thread on Harry’s jeans. ‘I failed you, and I’m sorry.’

‘Is this about this big secret master plan of yours?’

Draco nodded and tugged at the cotton.

‘It doesn’t matter, Draco, honestly. Whatever it was, don’t worry about it.’

‘But it was going to be such a glorious surprise. A hundred birds with one stone.’ Draco breathed in, held it, then exhaled one dramatically long and depressed sigh.

‘Is there no chance at all?’ Harry asked. ‘Or have you been completely foiled?’

‘Foiled, I think. I don’t really know. It’s just not working out like I hoped it would. I thought … I thought … oh never mind. It’s obviously not going to happen.’

Harry put his arm around Draco’s shoulders. ‘I love how you plot for me.’

Draco snorted. ‘Plotting is the easy part. Evil Plans are a piece of cake; it’s actually pulling them off that’s the big problem. I don’t seem to have inherited that knack.’ 

‘Uh, I don’t think your father had that knack to pass down.’

‘My mother did. She always got what she wanted – more or less.’

They sat in silence, gazing at the fire and listening to the children pattering around upstairs even though they were supposed to be in bed. Kasen and James were adjusting well; it seemed they weren’t bothered where they lived, just as long as they had a plentiful supply of orange squash and Playmobile. 

‘I used to get everything I wanted,’ Draco continued, and Harry nodded knowingly. ‘But then there was that pesky war and, somehow, I lost my mojo.’

Harry’s shoulders were shaking. ‘Mojo?’ 

‘Don’t laugh at me. I’m being deadly serious.’

Harry lifted an eyebrow, then he looked up at the creaking ceiling. ‘ARE YOU TWO KIDS IN BED?’ he yelled, and Draco winced at the ear-splitting sound.

There was a noise of scrambling children upstairs, then a faint, ‘Yes!’

‘Maybe I can help you with that lost mojo,’ Harry said, then he kissed Draco’s jaw.

‘How so?’ Draco asked, receiving Harry over his lap, Harry’s hands undoing his shirt and Harry’s lips brushing his throat. ‘Oh, I see. Well, you can try.’

Harry smiled against Draco’s neck and sucked as his fingers popped buttons and Draco’s hands went off on their own private mission of sexual exploration.

‘I must say, I do like your endeavours.’

‘Shh,’ Harry said, sliding his hand inside Draco’s jeans. ‘There’s your mojo.’

‘Oh my god, my eyes!’

Harry jumped up, spun around, staggered back and tripped sideways over Draco’s foot. 

‘Ow!’ Draco cried. He hastily retracted his foot and buttoned up his jeans. ‘Don’t you knock?’ he said to the face in the fireplace. 

‘On what?’ Pansy asked.

‘Who are …?’ Harry squinted into the fire. ‘Pansy Parkinson?!’

‘Potter,’ Pansy greeted coolly, then she turned to Draco and grinned in true Slytherin style. ‘Draco, honey, I’ve got good news. No, scrap that, I’ve got fabulous news. No, bollocks to that, I’ve got—’

‘Pansy!’ Draco shrieked, just to cut her off. He glanced at Harry’s confused and slightly unhappy face and laughed pathetically. ‘Pansy, I thought we agreed to use the rings,’ he said, holding up his hand with the signet ring on the second finger. ‘Beep me, I said. Subtlety was the name of the game.’

‘Monkeys to that.’ Pansy said, her face almost one enormous smirk. She clicked her fingers twice. ‘My office, now. I’ve got cake. And did I mention the gorgeously fabulous news that will make you the happiest man on the planet?’

She disappeared and Draco was left with one highly un-amused boyfriend. 

‘Erm …’

‘What,’ Harry said, ‘was that woman doing in our fireplace?’

Draco drummed his fingers at the sides of his legs. ‘Who, Pansy?’

‘No, Queen Elizabeth I. I didn’t realise you were such bosom buddies with our former Monarch!’

‘All right, no need to shout. Remember that surprise I told you about?’

‘Your ex is your big surprise? Oh, I’m so glad I waited.’

‘Urgh, don’t be so vulgar!’ Draco spat. ‘Girls! Pansy and I were never an item.’

‘Don’t lie, I saw you.’

‘Saw me what?’

Harry looked away. ‘She was stroking your hair,’ he said just loud enough for Draco to hear. 

‘When?!’

Harry’s cheeks started to redden and he toed the corner of the rug with one socked foot. ‘Sixth Year. On the train.’

Draco looked at him blankly. He blinked once. ‘I don’t remember that.’

‘She did.’

‘Oh. Well, it wasn’t what it looked like.’

‘I’m not an idiot.’

‘Yes you are. Pansy was part of my entourage. She adored me, no doubt, but she was well aware I wasn’t going to plunge her sink.’ 

‘Excuse me, what?’

‘You know. Do it with her, a girl. She was my fag hag, Harry. She kept the other girls away and practised her make-up on me.’

Hesitantly, Harry looked up, and when he did Draco was right in front of him, smirking and leaning down to kiss him.

‘She knew?’ Harry asked. ‘In school? Did you tell her?’

‘I didn’t have to. She was my best friend.’

‘So you and her never …’ Harry waggled one hand back and forth.

‘Certainly not,’ Draco said, looking slightly green. 

‘HEY!’ Pansy’s annoyed face said as it popped back into the fire. ‘Shift it, Malfoy, before I tear these very important parchments into itty bitty little bits.’

‘Coming, Pans.’

She popped out again and Draco took Harry’s hands in his. ‘I have to go, just for a while. And when I come back I’ll start trying to explain.’

Harry nodded and attempted a smile.

‘Don’t worry,’ Draco said. ‘I don’t know exactly how far along we are, but whatever Pansy says, we’ll talk about it, you and me. I promise. I love you, Harry.’

‘Okay, fine. Wait … What did you just—?’

Draco made a hasty and strategic bee-line for the fire. In other words, he legged it. ‘Parkinson & Sons!’

‘Wait!’

 

*****

Draco tripped out of Pansy’s office fireplace.

‘Hey, Daddy Cool, smooth entrance.’ 

‘Never mind that. I just did something supremely stupid.’

Pansy shrugged and flicked her long hair over her shoulder. ‘What’s new?’

‘Oh fine, if you’re going to be unhelpful.’

‘Unhelpful? Draco, sweetie pie, I’m your angel in disguise.’ She grinned and Draco had the urge to shield his eyes from the brilliant illuminations Pansy called her teeth. It was her ‘I’ve been a bad girl’ smile and once upon a time it would have made Draco grin in kind.

Her smile faltered and she placed her fingers at the corners of Draco’s lips and tried to lift them. ‘Smile, honey, it’s all good.’

‘Is it?’ he asked, ‘because I feel like everything is slipping away from me. I feel like it’s all going wrong. I feel like—’

Pansy rolled her eyes and moved behind her desk. ‘Don’t be so overdramatic. Nothing could be further from the truth.’ She pulled an enormous pile of parchments from her drawer and placed them in the middle of the desk.

Draco eyed them from across the room. ‘Then you really do have good news for me?’

‘The best. It’s done, Draco.’ Pansy sat back in her chair and folded her arms.

‘It sold?’ Draco sat down and picked up the first parchment slowly and carefully, as though any quick movements would scare it away. He skimmed over the contract and looked up into Pansy’s smug face. ‘The Manor, the land? Everything?’

Pansy nodded. ‘Everything.’

Draco felt his hands begin to shake and he quickly put down the parchment. ‘Oh my Merlin.’

Pansy silently nudged a small glass of firewhisky towards him, and Draco snatched it and downed it without a second thought. ‘Who bought it?’ he asked.

‘Sorry, anonymous buyer.’

‘I see.’

‘Are you okay?’

Draco swallowed and seriously thought about that question. He’d just sold his family home to a stranger, betrayed his name, thrown away his heritage. He felt sick, he felt gutted, he felt …

‘Wonderful,’ he said, and then he finally smiled. ‘I feel wonderful. What next, Pansy?’ he said, sitting forward eagerly. 

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, what do we do now? What’s the next step?’

‘I’m going to sit back and enjoy the fee you’re going to pay me. As for you, sit back and enjoy, baby. It’s Christmas!’

‘It’s April, what are you talking about?!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What do you mean what do I mean? I mean I don’t understand what you mean.’

Pansy frowned and delicately chewed one brightly polished purple nail. ‘Meaning?’

‘Pansy,’ Draco warned. ‘I know you of old. Stop toying with me.’

‘You’re no fun,’ she protested, although she had that huge smile on her face again. ‘Fine. The Manor and all its “accessories” have been sold, for the asking price I might add, and the proceeds have been used to purchase the _Prophet_. The previous owners have scarpered, one to the Bahamas to start his life of luxury and the other to deepest Mongolia in fear of his reputation and his Squirrel Girls.’

‘Squirrel?’

‘Think Bunny girls, but smaller ears and much bushier tails. My private dick is the best in town, Draco, literally.

‘Anyway, it’s yours, sweetheart. Run it into the ground, turn it into something respectable, the choice is all yours. Oh, but be careful or you’ll be broke before the year’s out.’

‘But …’

‘But?’

‘I … I thought it was going to be hard.’

‘Bloody cheek! It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.’

‘Oh, Pans, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just thought I would have to do something dastardly.’

Pansy got up and walked around the desk. She propped herself next to Draco and tapped his chin until he looked up. ‘That’s what I’m here for,’ she said. ‘So, did I do good?’

‘You know,’ Draco said, standing, ‘I think you inherited my mojo.’

‘I’m sorry?’

He hugged her, squeezed her until she was laughing. ‘I love you, Pansy. Oh Merlin, I’ve got to stop saying that. I must have opened a gate. Don’t let me near anyone else.’

Pansy pulled back enough to kiss his cheek, then she laid her head on his shoulder and said, ‘Be happy, Draco. I love you, too.’

Draco kissed her cheek and sat back down, leaving Pansy holding on to air. He clapped his hands twice and scraped his chair closer to the desk. ‘Chop chop, where do I sign? I’ve got to get back to Harry.’

‘He’s a lucky man,’ Pansy said, passing over the first stack of contracts with a sigh. 

Draco grinned and was sure Pansy needed to shield her eyes. ‘I know.’

 

To be concluded in the final chapter…


	21. Chapter 21/The Last

  
Author's notes: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.  


* * *

When Draco returned to the house, he found Harry and the children sitting around the kitchen table eating cheesecake and listening to Radio 1.

‘What are you little monkeys doing up?’ he asked, barely suppressing a big grin and staring right at Harry.

‘Eating cheesy cake,’ James said. ‘It’s yummy.’

Draco shook his head and fetched himself a fork. ‘It’ll give you bad dreams.’ He sat down at the table and cut himself a nice large slice, because there was no way he was having nightmares tonight.

‘They were restless,’ Harry explained. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’

Usually, the last thing Draco would allow was the children to eat cheesecake at nine o’clock at night. But tonight was no ordinary night. Tonight all bets were off, the cat was amongst the pigeons and the fat lady was about to open her great big gob and sing an entire opera.

Draco watched his family, one by one: Kasen with his white-blond hair, which was getting far too long, and his fork held in both hands; James with his expression of intense concentration and his dinosaur pyjamas; and lastly Harry, who looked more pale and worried than he ever should. Draco was about to make sure that he never looked that way again.

‘Children,’ Draco said, ‘would you like to watch television in bed?’

‘Daddy’s gone mad!’ Kasen screeched, his fork clattering onto the tabletop. Harry shrugged at him but said nothing. 

‘Seriously, cheesecake in bed with television. How does that sound?’ 

The children answered by scrambling to their feet, plates in hand, and Harry tipped back his head and laughed. The sound echoed around the kitchen, bouncing off cupboards and clanging against the sink and the pipes and then returning to the table with a great snort. It was the most bizarre and delightful sound and it made Draco want to kiss Harry all over. 

‘Go on, then,’ he said instead. ‘No running up the stairs, don’t drop crumbs in the bed and don’t make the remote control all sticky. And don’t record anything!’ 

‘What is going on with you?’ Harry asked when James and Kasen had scuttled off in the fastest walk Draco had ever seen. ‘Kasen’s right, you’re acting like a mad person. And more so than usual.’

‘Harry, we need to talk.’ He took Harry’s hand and led him to the sofa. They sunk down into the cushions together and Draco started the conversation with the most tender kiss he could manage, which was difficult considering all the manic urges he was feeling.

‘You said you loved me,’ Harry said.

‘Yes.’

‘Do you?’

Draco frowned. ‘Do I what?’

‘Love me.’

‘I thought we just covered that.’ Draco put his hand up. ‘Wait, stop. Let’s start again.’

Harry looked at him suspiciously. ‘Okay.’

Draco took a deep breath. ‘I’m not feeling very good with words just at the moment. But perhaps I can illustrate the way I feel.’

‘You’re taking up painting?’ 

‘You are so thick.’

Harry hit him with a cushion. ‘I was joking! Come on, put me out of my misery. You’ve got something big to tell me and I’m hoping it’s big and good and not big and bad. You’ve been secretive for so long now and sometimes I think it’s a positive thing; you know, it gives you something to do, something to worry about other than our stalkers. But sometimes I really worry about you. I worry you’re getting into something bad, something you can’t handle. And it’s not that I don’t trust you, Draco, because I do; I just feel anxious about everything and I don’t know what I’d do if—’

‘I bought the _Prophet._ ’

‘—something happened to you pardon?’ 

Draco’s smile had faded sometime while Harry had been talking, his nerves catching up with him, wondering if Harry would be pleased or appalled, but now he was grinning again.

‘I want,’ Harry said, ‘to say hardy har, but I know you and I don’t think you’re joking. Are you joking? Say it again.’

‘I bought the _Prophet._ I sold Malfoy Manor and …’ Draco shrugged. ‘I bought the _Prophet._ ’ 

He got up and retrieved a cardboard box from next to the fireplace. It was plain brown with a lid, rectangle holes on each end for handles and a big red bow on the top. ‘I romantically hoped the contract would be one magnificent parchment I could present to you as a scroll, but unfortunately it covers ninety-six sheets. Here you go.’

Harry, open-mouthed and _almost_ speechless, accepted the heavy box. ‘Why are you giving it to me?’

‘Because it’s for you, of course. Why else?’

‘You’re actually giving it to me? You sold your … And you bought … And now you’re … Daddy really has gone crazy. This is too much. Draco, I can’t. Wait, you actually bought the _Prophet_?! The _entire_ newspaper?! As in the whole business and not just one copy of it?’ 

‘Yes, idiot. I bought the whole thing. I haven’t actually done anything with it, but I bought it and I’m giving it to you. Harry, you’ll call all the shots. You’ll be able to get rid of all the reporters; they’ll finally leave us alone. After all, they won’t report something if it will get them fired. Speaking of which, that Rita Skeeter woman has to go. She makes my blood boil and my hair corkscrew, and you know how I hate kinks.’

Dazed and bemused, Harry nodded. ‘Yeah, I know.’

‘So what do you think?’

Harry looked down at the box on his lap. He lifted the lid and Draco smelled expensive parchment and glorious ink. ‘I think,’ Harry said, ‘that I don’t deserve you.’

‘Don’t be slow.’

‘No, I mean it. What have I done for you?’

‘Apart from rescue me from certain death, you mean? Apart from giving me and my son a home? Apart from taking a chance on me and making me the happiest man on the planet?’

Harry started to smile. ‘Apart from that,’ he said.

‘It’s not a competition, you know? And aside from that, there is one string attached.’

‘Uh-oh.’

‘You have to employ me. I want a job.’

‘Office janitor?’

‘There’s more than one place I can stick that box, you know.’ 

Harry tried to look contrite but failed completely.

‘I want to write my own gardening section,’ Draco said, his expression turning serious. ‘A monthly supplement on what you should be doing in your garden at the appropriate time. A buyers guide also and perhaps even a weekly gardening advice column. What do you think?’

‘I think it’s a great idea. We can really call the reporters off?’

‘I already said you could. You’re not really listening, are you?’

‘I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time getting over the whole “I bought the _Prophet_ ” thing. No-one got hurt, did they?’

‘Not one person. All it took was a lot of money, some well-placed rumours and Pansy Parkinson.’

Harry put down the box and pulled Draco into an embrace. They held each other tightly. It was an uncomfortable position, both of them twisted around awkwardly, but Draco wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon. His chin resting on Harry’s shoulder, he gazed down at the box of parchments.

‘You’re my best friend,’ Harry whispered. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

‘I thought Ron and Hermione were your best friends.’

‘Well, yeah, but you are too.’

‘Does that mean I’ve been promoted?’

‘Big time.’

 

*****

_Draco laced up his walking boots and helped Kasen into his._

_‘Are we going to Farley Mount?’ Kasen asked._

_‘Yes, we are. The ground should be nice and dry now.’_

_‘You’re funny when you fall down, Daddy.’_

_Draco frowned and remembered scraping mud out of his ear. ‘Quite.’_

_Draco sat out the bus journey in silence. He listened to Kasen singing and chattering and together they watched the countryside as they sped past it. Kasen was happy. They both were, but there was still something missing, both in Kasen’s life and his own._

_A Friend. A real friend. A best friend._

_Everyone should have a best friend._

_‘Daddy?’_

_‘Hm?’ Draco said warily. Kasen had that expression on his face, the one he always wore when he looked right into Draco’s soul._

_‘When I go to school you could make friends with my teacher.’_

_‘Could I?’ Draco said. ‘What a splendid idea.’ He gave Kasen one of his looks and Kasen giggled._

_‘Maybe _you’ll_ meet a nice new friend at school,’ Draco said._

_‘I’ve got friends.’_

_‘A best friend, Kasen. Everyone has a best friend at school.’_

_‘Do they?’ Kasen sat up straighter and waited for more information._

_The bus dropped them opposite Farley Mount car park. It was deserted except for one vehicle, a shiny silver Peugeot. Draco passed it with an admiring glance and took Kasen’s hand to negotiate the slight decline in the winding pathway._

_‘At school,’ Draco explained, ‘everyone has to have a best friend and a great enemy. It’s the natural law of opposites.’_

_‘Who was your best friend, Daddy?’_

_‘I had several.’_

_‘Did you have lots of enemies too?’_

_Draco smiled and said, ‘A few. One in particular.’_

_And twenty minutes later he was staring directly at him._

_‘Christ, are you all right?’_

_Draco wasn’t sure that he was, but he nodded a brief affirmative anyway._

_‘Are you sure?’ Potter persisted. ‘You’re white as a ... Malfoy?’_

 

*****

They slumbered in their cheesecake-covered bed, the children passed-out on either side of them and a sticky remote control digging into Draco’s back. They blinked at each other in the dark light and Draco touched his fingers to Harry’s cheek. ‘You were my greatest enemy once,’ he said.

‘And now?’

‘My greatest love.’

Harry’s Adam apple bobbed in the darkness and he laughed quietly. ‘See, how can I compete when you say things like that?’

‘Just tell me you feel the same way.’

Harry answered without hesitation. ‘I do.’

 

*****

The next morning was quiet except for the squawking of sea gulls and the rush of traffic in the distance. Draco stood at the window and watched their new neighbours unlocking their cars and putting out their rubbish. He held a steaming mug of tea in both hands and it splashed over his fingers as Harry fell out of the fire in a whoosh of flame.

‘This thing is defective,’ Harry said.

Draco agreed and made his way to the kitchen to wash his hands and wipe the side of his mug free of tea. ‘You were a long time.’

‘I made some detours.’

‘Oh?’

‘I went to see Pansy.’

Draco’s blood ran cold. ‘Whatever she told you, it isn’t true, I can assure you.’

‘Relax, she didn’t tell me anything – apart from that you sucked your thumb until Fifth Year. Although how she knew that, I don’t want to know.’

‘Lies!’

Harry smirked and plopped himself down at the kitchen table. ‘Want some good news?’

‘Yes please.’ 

‘Pansy issued a statement to all the reporters _we_ employ threatening them with the push if they came anywhere near us. Rita Skeeter has been sacked, and so has her photographer, and all the others are awaiting orders. I’ve been to back to the house and it’s reporter free, as is yours – and your house is ready, by the way; there was a message on the machine. And lastly, I have a surprise for you.’

‘The reporters have gone already? A surprise?’ Draco put down his mug. ‘For me? This is all too much.’

‘You’re telling me.’ Harry got up and left the room. When he came back he was carrying a cardboard box with a lid and large gold bow.

‘What’s that?’ Draco asked, immediately on guard. ‘If it’s not a puppy, I’m going to be very upset.’

‘We don’t need a puppy, we’ve got kids. It’s the _Prophet_. Well, half of it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I’ve signed half of it back over to you. Half each, Draco. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.’

‘But … I wanted you to have it.’

‘And I want you to have it, too. So we behave like adults and we compromise. Half each. That’s my final word.’

Draco narrowed his eyes, seeing a golden opportunity. ‘Then I accept …’

‘That’s—!’

‘… on the condition that you’ll let me petition someone for the editors job.’

‘Oh. Well, yeah, that’s fine. Who did you have in mind?’

Draco produced an evil, Slytherin-style grin. ‘Someone who will make sure those reporters stay absolutely in line come what may.’ 

 

*****

The streets of Diagon Alley were crowded as usual, witches and wizards packed tightly together like magical sardines in an old-fashioned tin. The air smelled of fish, as if to seal the point, and the sun bore down and gleamed off of cobbles that were still damp from an earlier burst of spring rain.

The people turned and stared. They pointed and whispered and looked down their long noses.

‘Pay them no mind,’ Draco said, and clasped James’s searching hand. They stepped onto the main street and Draco felt proud. He looked over his shoulder at Kasen and Harry. ‘This is it, Kasen. Diagon Alley. What do you think?’

Kasen looked around him, squinting at the sun in his eyes and observing everything around him carefully. 

‘Kasen?’ Draco asked. 

On Kasen’s face was an expression of intense thinking and concentration. ‘I quite like it, Daddy, but it does smell a bit.’

Harry tried his hardest not to laugh while Draco frowned and nodded. ‘That would be all the poor people. You’ll get used to it.’ 

‘Draco!’ Harry hissed even though he was laughing. ‘You can’t say things like that.’

‘Daddy’s just bitter because they were all horrible to him,’ Kasen informed them. He held Harry’s hand for safety and then turned towards the staring people. ‘You all smell of fish!’ 

The people were appalled and they clutched their hands to their chests as Draco and Harry lead their children past.

‘Do you think that was wise?’ Harry asked. Kasen gasped and let go of his hand to press his nose up against a shop window. James joined him.

‘Haven’t you worked it out yet, Harry?’ Draco swung his arms behind his back and linked fingers to wrist. He walked to over to the children with a slow calmness he hadn’t felt for too many years.

‘Worked what out?’

‘It doesn’t matter what we actually do and say. It only matters what the _Daily Prophet_ reports. And today, they’re going to report all about my sizable donation to the children’s ward at St. Mungo’s.’

‘When did you do that?’

Draco bent down and peered through the window at three racing brooms. ‘Pansy transferred the money this morning.’

‘Can we have them?’ Kasen asked.

‘We’ll see,’ Harry said.

The children groaned and moved on, and Harry and Draco followed at a leisurely pace.

‘So we’re going to use the _Prophet_ for our own nefarious purposes?’ Harry asked, not looking all that displeased about the prospect.

‘Of course. Owner’s perk.’

‘Good. And then we turn it around and make it an upstanding broadsheet for the discernable wizard.’ Harry lifted his chin as he spoke and Draco thought that perhaps Harry would make an excellent Malfoy. 

Harry Potter-Malfoy. 

‘Exactly. Our new editors will accept nothing less.’

Upon close inspection, the _Prophet_ was surprisingly tatty and not at all imposing. That would have to change, Draco thought, and he started to plan fierce statues, golden gargoyles and tall columns of twisted, hissing cement. 

‘Stay in our sights,’ Draco ordered James and Kasen. ‘Off you go, then.’ And the children ran inside, through the reception and down the corridor, stopping at the end and running back.

‘They are going to sleep so well tonight.’ Harry said. 

‘That’s the idea, I assume,’ said Severus Snape. ‘You’re late, Draco.’

‘Apologies, you know how it is. So much for the children to see, especially Kasen.’

And as if on cue, Kasen slid to a halt in front of a painting of a grumpy old man with a big dog and a tall cane.

‘Whaddaya want?’ gruffed the old man.

Kasen screamed and stepped back. 

‘They nearly all do that,’ James said, holding his friend’s hand to comfort him.

‘Can they get out?’

The dog barked and Kasen flinched.

‘Nope. Look, there’s a nice one!’ The children went to a narrow painting of a beautiful woman in blue.

Severus pretended to ignore them and instead looked around him with obvious disdain. ‘What am I doing here, Draco?’

‘Harry and I want to offer you a job.’

Harry nodded and Severus looked distinctly startled. ‘How so?’

‘Draco and I own the _Prophet_ now,’ Harry said, ‘and we need someone trustworthy to help run things for a while.’

‘Trustworthy?’ Severus repeated. ‘Draco, your _special_ friend has taken leave of his senses. And you bought the _Prophet?_ ’ 

‘No, no, he’s quite sane, I can assure you. And yes, we bought the _Prophet._ So you see, we need trustworthy people to get things in order, set precedents and teach the remaining and new staff how things are to be.’

‘And how are they to be?’

‘We want to bring the _Prophet_ back to its former glory. Back when the paper was first published it was respectable; perhaps you remember, Serverus.’

‘I’m not that old, you insolent little pup,’ Severus grumbled to his smirking friend.

‘Yes, well, that aside, the _Prophet_ is now little more than a rag that we intend to iron out and starch with subtlety, art, world news, correct grammar for a change, actual sporting events rather than who the Seeker for the Harpies is sleeping with, delicacy, good writing, unobtrusive reporting—’

‘And we want them off our backs for good,’ Harry finished.

‘It doesn’t have to be a permanent job,’ Draco said, ‘unless you want it to be, but we really need your help with this. You are one of the most frightening people I know, Severus, and I beg you to help us terrorise the staff into line. Please?’

Severus silently considered. He stared at a blank part of the wall like it held all the answers to the Universe. ‘Very well,’ he said after a few moments. ‘I would report to _you_ , I assume, Draco.’

‘Actually no.’

Severus glared at Harry. ‘I refuse to report to this dimwit.’

‘You won’t have to,’ Draco said, which earned him a backhanded slap on the arm. ‘You’ll report to the editors.’

‘And they are?’

*****

 

The corridors were devoid of people, save for the odd peering face here and there. Most of the staff were tucked away in their offices, working diligently and efficiently.

‘Look at them all hiding,’ Draco said. His shoes squeaked on the polished floor and he wondered if carpet would look better, or perhaps wood.

‘The tables have turned. Do you think it will stay like that?’

Draco stopped to consider the question. He glanced over his shoulder to check on the children and found them harassing Severus. ‘Absolutely. We’re taking control, Harry.’

‘And what if another paper tries the same thing.’

‘Oh, that’s easy,’ Draco said brightly. ‘We’ll crush them.’

Harry nodded. ‘Can I leave the crushing to you?’

They stopped in front of a set of carved mahogany double doors. Draco adjusted his robes and dusted himself down. ‘How do I look?’

‘You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.’

Draco touched Harry’s cheek and kissed him gently. ‘See? You can compete.’ He stood straight again and cleared his throat. ‘You’ll be waiting?’

‘You know I will.’

‘Right. This is it, then. Right.’ Draco took a deep breath and swung open the doors.

‘At last. I thought perhaps we were to gather a layer of dust before you showed yourself.’

‘Hello, Father. Mother.’

‘Sweetheart, come closer,’ Narcissa said. ‘Let us look at you. It’s been so long. Oh my, how handsome you’ve become.’

Draco swallowed and stepped forward. He had so much to say but not nearly enough nerves to speak it. ‘I apologise for my absence. Things got … out of control. I hid myself away and it was cowardly and stupid and—’

‘Necessary,’ Lucius finished. ‘We understand. I wish there were something we could have done to help you. If your mother and I were alive, believe that we would have put all your enemies into an early grave.’

‘Lucius,’ Narcissa chided. ‘None of that talk. Let us be glad that our son has found his own way. Our clever boy.’

His mother looked at him in such a fashion that Draco blushed and looked away. ‘Not that clever,’ he said quietly.

‘Have you brought our grandson?’ Lucius asked.

Draco nodded. ‘He’s outside. Playing. I’ll bring him here in—. Aren’t you angry with me?’

‘Furious,’ Lucius said calmly. ‘All we wanted was to see our son, our grandson. You needed help and you refused ours. But we can’t exactly blame you for that, Draco. After all, it was us that left you all alone.’

‘Don’t say that, Father.’

‘It has to be said.’

‘But look at you now.’ Narcissa held her husband’s arm, offering him that silent comfort while she spoke to her son. ‘You found your own way, and in spectacular fashion!’

‘Mother, you were told that I had to sell the Manor? I couldn’t have afforded—’

‘Yes, yes, darling, dear Pansy told us. It’s all right. We understand. And that old Manor was drafty anyway.’

‘Those drafts,’ Lucius said, ‘were the bane of my life. And my death.’

‘And now we’re to be editors!’ Narcissa went on, her excitement so infectious that both Lucius and Draco were starting to fidget from their formal poses. ‘How splendid!’

‘So you both accept, then?’

‘We accept,’ Lucius said, bowing his head. ‘Just as long as we are free to fire as we please. They’ll be no slacking or tabloid tendencies here.’

‘And you’ll have Severus to help you. He’s agreed to be your assistant for as long as it takes to set things up and get them working smoothly.’

‘My old friend,’ Lucius said, and then his expression turned suddenly serious. ‘I .. I didn’t say this enough to you when you were a child, Draco, and I should have. I am incredibly proud of you.’

‘Really?’ Draco felt like he was 4ft high again, young and awaiting his father’s approval. 

‘I always was. Your manners, your progress at school, your magical talents. You were our perfect little boy.’

‘We loved you so,’ Narcissa said. ‘And we loved you more as each day passed. We may only be brushstrokes and magic now, but we can still feel what it was like – and what it’s like now.’

Draco scrubbed at one eye, his hands trembling and his heart racing. His voice was unsteady and untrustworthy but he spoke anyway. ‘Are you trying to make me cry?’

‘Yes,’ Narcissa said as a tear tracked down her face and smudged her painted cheek. ‘Oh dear.’

Draco pulled out a clean handkerchief and dabbed her face. ‘I seem to be making it worse,’ he said, his expression turning stricken.

‘Don’t worry, darling, send for an artist; A good one, please.’

Draco turned the handkerchief over and blew his nose. ‘Yes, of course, Mother. Right away. I’ll make sure you’re touched up by only the best.’ 

Draco balked, Narcissa laughed and Lucius attempted to change the subject. ‘Tell us, dear Draco, whatever happened to that awful Potter boy? I don’t suppose he became a professional Seeker and soon after broke his neck? No?’

‘Erm, Father?’

‘Yes?’

‘I think there are a few things we need to talk about.’

 

*****

 

May saw a big party. The halls of the _Prophet_ were decked out with shimmering candles, opulent velvet swags, and golden champagne glasses that floated around the walls like birds riding the breeze. Draco caught one with his fingertips and sipped. Behind him, his mother glanced at each guest as they passed. 

‘I still can’t believe it, Draco. Percy Weasley, Minister for Magic.’

‘I know, vulgar isn’t it? Mind you, could be worse.’ Draco held up his glass and smiled at Ron, who was standing over the other side talking to someone Draco recognised as a Slytherin and looking distinctly uncomfortable about it.

‘You have to learn to get on with him,’ Narcissa advised. ‘He’s practically family now.’

‘Merlin, don’t let Father hear you say that.’

‘Oh I won’t. Good evening, Severus.’

Like a great black storm cloud, Severus Snape appeared at Draco’s shoulder. ‘Draco. Narcissa, may I borrow your son for a moment.’

‘Please. I see my husband anyway. We’ll talk later, Severus.’ 

Draco watched her slide from the painting and into one down the hall that was already occupied by Lucius and a noble-looking old wizard with a wonky hat.

‘Enjoying the party?’ Draco asked.

‘As much as one can.’

‘Don’t be like that. I saw you with the scotch eggs, you old devil.’

‘Less of the old, please. And those weren’t for me. I was commandeering them from your son. He’ll be quite ill if he eats anymore.’

Draco watched his son fondly. Kasen was taking flying leaps at the champagne glasses in an attempt to capture one. He wasn’t anywhere close and, in fact, the glasses seemed to be toying with him, dipping down when they circled close and then rushing back up as Kasen leapt. 

‘He inherited my appetite.’

‘And your stupidity by the looks of it.’

Draco let the comment go on the basis that he knew Severus’s true feelings towards Kasen, and even James now. More than once over the past month he’d caught Severus presenting magical presents and imparting advice for little wizards.

‘You cared for me, too, as a child, I mean – although you always hated to show it,’ Draco said, and he immediately wondered what had prompted him to make such a statement.

Severus regarded him with an unreadable expression and he held it until Draco dropped his gaze to the bubbles in his champagne glass. 

‘I tried to tell your father Hogwarts wasn’t for you. But I didn’t try hard enough. I won’t make that sort of mistake again. Your children will never suffer as you did.’

Draco stared at him for several long moments. ‘You wanted me to go to Durmstrang. My Merlin, I remember that.’

‘I didn’t want you in the same vicinity as Harry Potter. His fate and yours should never have crossed. If I had—’

Draco shook his head. ‘No. You don’t know what would have happened. Yes, I would have been at a different school, but my father would still have been involved with The Dark Lord. And what would have become of me when he failed his mission to get the Prophecy? I would have likely been killed outright to punish him. It’s not like I could have arranged the death of Dumbledore, is it? No, everything is as it should be, Severus. You did what you had to, we all did, and now here we are safe and sound and together. That is what counts now.’

Severus nodded curtly. ‘Very well. Your reasoning is logical.’

Draco bowed back. ‘Thank you, Spock.’ 

‘Pardon?’

Later in the evening, as the party began to wind down, Draco found Harry collapsed on a massive beanbag, with Kasen and James snuggled next to him. The children were deeply asleep, matching silver and green teddy bears tucked under their arms.

‘I had to save them from the buffet,’ Harry explained. ‘Or possibly save the buffet from them.’

‘Shall we go home?’ Draco said, smiling down at them all. ‘Mother and Mrs Weasley said they’ll wrap things up. They’ve been bonding.’

‘Yikes.’

‘That’s what Father said. Well, not exactly.’

Harry passed up Kasen, and Draco half held him, half draped him over his shoulder. Kasen’s little lashes twitched and his grip tightened on his bear.

‘I have no idea where the bears came from,’ Harry said, and Draco just smiled. ‘I think I do know who bought the Manor, though,’ Harry went on.

‘Oh?’

‘Well – and I might be wrong – who do you know with bags of cash, a shopping habit and a father who collects stately homes?’

‘He’s only got three,’ Draco said, and then he realised what he was saying, what this meant. He turned and saw Pansy standing by a flurry of glasses, beautiful in a fulgent peacock-patterned dress, and their eyes locked.

‘Thank you,’ he mouthed. 

 

*****

 

On June 1st 2008, Draco and Kasen moved back into their farmhouse in Winchester. Harry and James moved with them. For days the household was a chaotic one, boxes and possessions everywhere and both adults and children carving out new territories and space. 

Kasen and James had a bedroom each now. Not that James actually used it, usually ending up in the bed with Kasen or both the children snuggling up in Draco and Harry’s bed, a Super-King size, no expense spared. Draco put down James’s reluctance to sleeping in his own room down to décor. It didn’t yet look like a child’s bedroom, the walls still a bland magnolia and the carpet boring beige. 

The house was more spacious than Harry’s, twice the square footage and a garden that was easily three times the size. The garden now looked a little shabby by Draco’s high standards but he was looking forward to the challenge of fixing it back up with a few notable changes. He’d decided roses were out and it was time for topiary. Harry was trying to talk him out of it. 

One evening, at around eleven o’clock, when the children were in bed and Draco was channel hopping, everything came together.

‘You realise we’re done,’ Harry said, sitting down next to him and commandeering the remote control.

‘With what?’

‘Moving. Everything’s put away, thrown away, shifted, put into storage, arranged. You name it, we’ve done it.’

‘We’ve done it,’ Draco repeated, leaning back into the cushions and staring up at the ceiling. ‘Good Merlin.’ 

‘Feel good?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Feel exhausted?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Feel like having sex?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Not just yet,’ Lucius Malfoy said, sliding into the painting over the fireplace with his hands over his eyes. 

‘Father! What do I owe the pleasure?’

‘Your mother. She’s … organising.’

‘Uh-oh,’ Draco said. 

‘Quite. You’re invited to a intimate dinner in the private rooms at the _Prophet._ Please pass on this invite to … to … to …’

‘To?’ Harry prompted, and Lucius lowered his hands and put on his Happy Face. 

‘To the Weasleys. This coming Saturday. Formal attire please. And, Draco, if I ever catch you in a Hawaiian shirt again, I’ll erase myself with correction fluid.’

‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’

‘A good night to you both.’

‘He’s really growing on me,’ Harry said when Lucius had gone. ‘Smart man.’

‘It’s a fashion experiment!’

‘A failed fashion experiment.’

‘Fine. You know what, I didn’t say anything when you tried dungarees.’

‘You didn’t have to. The snotty look said it all.’

‘Hmph,’ Draco said.

‘Can I take you out of it?’

‘What?’

‘The shirt.’ Harry un-tucked it from Draco’s trousers and slid his hands up and inside. 

Draco shivered at the coolness of Harry’s hands and leaned into the touch. Their mouths connected and they kissed deeply until Harry made a groaning noise at the back of his throat and Draco literally pounced. 

‘Harry Potter, you make me so hard—’

‘Daddy,’ Kasen said from the doorway.

‘—to resist … chocolate … cake, Kasen, I didn’t see you there, would you like some chocolate cake?’

Kasen nodded sorrowfully. ‘Yes please.’

‘What’s wrong, Kasen?’ Harry asked, getting up now that Draco had moved off.

‘I’ve been sick. Can I have a big piece of cake?’

‘Oh, Kasen.’ Draco put his hand on Kasen’s forehead. ‘You do feel hot. No cake I’m afraid.’

Kasen started to cry. James appeared behind him and also requested cake. He got the same answer and there were more tears.

‘They’re tired. I’ll take them upstairs,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll clear up whatever’s there.’

‘Thank you, Harry,’ Draco said, and he watched Harry lead James and carry Kasen away. Then he put the kettle on and made two cups of tea. He took them both outside and sat in one of the patio chairs. It was a clear night and the stars above sparkled and the moon hung large and alarmingly close. 

It had been an exhausting month and Draco knew he would feel the effects of that sooner or later. But for now he felt fit and awake. He itched to do some weeding or re-paint the door frame or plan out the new decking. 

‘I think we should have a summerhouse,’ Harry said as he stepped out of the back door. ‘The kids would love that. And you could use your extensive research into the subject in one of your gardening supplements.’

Draco squinted into the darkness of the furthest corners of the garden. ‘Yes, that would be lovely. Perhaps one of those little cottagey ones. The boys could play house. Yes.’ Draco paused and cocked his head in thought. ‘I never thought this would be my life. I once thought I wouldn’t even have one. Now look at me. Look at us.’

Harry padded over to Draco’s chair in just his socks and pyjama bottoms, then he sat in Draco’s lap and hugged him tightly.

‘What are you doing, Potter?’

‘Some might call it snuggling,’ Harry said into Draco’s Hawaiian shoulder, ‘but I call it expressing intense love and understanding without using all the awkward and complicated words that I’m not very good at.’

‘You’re better at it than you think.’ Draco held Harry just as tightly and knew he would never let go, not for anything or anyone. Harry and James were his family, too, and the four of them fit together like they’d always been parts of the same whole.

From greatest enemies to greatest loves.

‘You do know this chair wasn’t designed for the weight of two people?’ Draco said, and then it collapsed, Draco bruised his hip bone, and they all lived happily ever after.

 

The End.

 

A huge thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing. It's so very appreciated and I hope you enjoyed the story. I certainly had a wonderful time writing it and I shall miss Kasen very much.

Suki


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